The Cabin
by CourtneyHowlett
Summary: All Logan wanted to do was catch up with Marie after he'd been on the road for four years. But when an unexpected snowstorm traps them in the cabin much longer than they planned, they get a little creative with each other. Logan and Marie learn how to love each other the right way this time, but will Marie's dreams last forever? PURE ROGAN.
1. Pine, Cigar Smoke, Beer and Mint

**The Cabin**

**Author's Note:**** FYI, this story is told from Marie's POV. Scott is still alive, Jean is dead, and so is Xavier. Magneto and his 'bad' crew aren't really a problem in this story either. This story will be a chapter story, but it's sort of starting out like my one shot called This is the usual happy ending story, so…like, don't worry or anything. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 1: Pine, Cigar Smoke, Beer and Mint**

Logan's always leaving on his road trips. He writes to me from time to time, telling me all about his cage-fighting adventures and how he's been dating those floozies and tarts that he picks up at the bars he frequently visits. I call them bar flies. But anyways…I should have known, right? I'm just 'the kid' to Logan and that's all I ever will be.

But the thing is, I would have never ever been prepared for Logan fucking Howlett to walk through the front door of the academy again. He was known for running, taking year-long trips on the road. I thought that he sure as hell wasn't going to come back to a school that left him with so many scars and painful memories. But again, that man proves me wrong.

Everyone bombards him with hugs and warm hello's. Over time, he'd quickly become a favorite teacher. But when he left…things changed. I watch him grinning those Wolverine grins and nodding his head politely at all the excited kids and staff members that are glad to have him back. I'll have to say that he did put a little bit of life into this school.

He's getting the perfect reunion, I'd say. I stay back near the stairs trying to walk through the walls like Kitty. I'd swap mutations with her any day. Her amazing talent for my deadly skin that didn't allow me to connect with anyone.

The damn hallway's so full that I can't squeeze out and go back to my room for some peace. I'm left pinned to the wall like a dart on a dartboard. He's scanning the crowd with his deep brown eyes now, and I know he's looking for me. He never writes to anyone else but me. Not even Storm, and I heard it through the grapevine that they had something going before I left.

Well fuck the grapevine.

Logan says he just 'ain't got no time for writing, and that sort of crafty thing', and that he only does it because he knows how much I care about him. Do I care? I'd say no, but my family was mighty religious before I hightailed my ass to this academy, and it's an awful sin to lie.

I find myself frowning when I see Kitty hanging on Logan's arm like a drape. First she took Bobby from me, and now she's trying for Logan. I snort to myself.

_Yeah right._

I'd say I like Kitty, 'cept the sinning part keeps me from doing so. I stop trying to be a chameleon and I step out into the crowd. Logan's eyes find me instantly. It makes me smile when I see him shake Kitty off of his arm like she's an annoying child and comes bounding over to me. Before I can register what he's doing, he's got me in his arms, squished against his body so tight that I can barely breathe. I inhale deeply. He smells like Logan: pine trees, cigar smoke, beer, and fresh mint leaves.

It's such a familiar scent to me, but I haven't smelled it in years. I almost forgot what a Wolverine smells like.

He releases me and steps back to take a look at me. "Hey, kid." There goes the nickname again. I can't help but smile. His smile vanishes as he stares me. I feel week inside—what's the matter with him? I begin to panic with the thought that there's something disgusting stuck between my teeth, and he's mortified by it. I close my mouth and swipe my tongue across my teeth.

I'm fine; there's no food stuck in my teeth. "What is it?" I finally ask him. I push my hair over my shoulder and nervously shift in my place.

"Nothin'," he murmurs, running a hand through his wind-blown hair. "I just haven't seen ya in a real long time. You've really become a woman, eh?" His eyes trail downwards from my face and land on my chest. He nods as if to say, 'hell yeah.'

I clear my throat and watch as his eyes snap from my chest back to my eyes. He's a man, I don't blame him for trying to look. "Well, it has been four years since I last saw you. Of course you'd know that I'd change."

He tucks a strand of my white _highlighted_ bangs behind my ear and splays his palm on my warm cheek. I lean into his warm touch. "Of course…" It takes him a second before he realizes what he's doing. He removes his hand from my skin before touching me again in awe. "Kid…your mutation?"

I nod and smile again. Proudly, this time, because I know there's no food stuck in my teeth. "I can control it now, Logan."

He laughs and brings me in for another hug. "Atta girl," he praises me, burying his nose in the crook of my neck. My hands find his shoulders and I hang onto him like my life depends on t. "M'proud of ya."

"Thanks." He releases me when Storm, Scott, and Hank come in to greet him and welcome him back. I slink away into the crowds again as his attention turns onto the others.

0o0o0o0o

"Girl, seriously? Why are you sitting here like a bump on the log while Wolfie's out there probably looking for you?" Jubilee exclaims at me, throwing her hand sin the air. "365 days out of the year you're whining and crying for him to come back, and now that he is…"

I snort and flip the page of my book. "I do not _whine _and _cry._ I don't know who you're talking about, but it sure as hell ain't me." Jubes puts her hands on her hips. She snatches the book from my hands and tosses it into her pink trashcan.

"Okay, maybe you don't whine and cry. But seriously, you've got to get out there and talk to him." She prances around the room like a nervous wreck. Nervous for what? I'm the one that has to talk to Logan. "Come on."

I stare at my book longingly. It's just sitting there in the trash can waiting to be read. Jubilee sighs and zaps my book with her explosive sparkles. My book shrivels up inside of the trash. I stare in shock and push back my hair. "That was a _library_ book, Jubilation Lee."

She cringes when I say her full name. "Yeah, well I can pay the librarian later. _Little Women_ is shit anyways." She leans on her right leg and blows a shiny pink gum bubble.

"How dare you! _Little Women_ is a beloved classic."

"Beloved classic my ass, chica."

The bell that signals dinner goes off loudly and I hear kids rushing out of their dorms to head down to the mess hall. I reluctantly get up from my spot on her bed and follow her out the door. People are rushing down the hallway like a mob. Jubilee drags me down the hallway.

Just when she lets go, I'm nearly run over by someone. It's Kitty. I regain my balance and hiss her way. Jubilee pulls the middle finger, but they don't see it. Bobby's gripping Kitty's hand tightly and she's giggling as he blows snowflake kisses at her. "C'mon, I have a faster way to get to the mess hall," Kitty tells him. She takes his hand and they sink down through the floor.

I find myself still seething at them in rage. That bitch—

Jubes snaps her fingers in front of my eyes. "Hey. Hey—they're a bunch of bumblefucks, and I don't think you should even start to worry about them. I don't think they know that using the stairs is the latest trend.

I laugh as we make our way down to the mess hall for dinner. I sit at the X-Men table. I guess that Jubes and I can officially call ourselves X-Men. I spot Hank, Scott, and Storm already sitting at the table.

Bobby and Kitty sit at the end of the X-Men table, covering each other with unneeded affection that I never got from Bobby since I couldn't touch. Somebody call the damned cops. Too much PDA.

A squeal snaps me out of my hateful trance. Jubes is looking straight at me with sparkling eyes and a wide smile. Logan's making his way over to the table. He sits down next to Hank, who in turn, slaps him hard on the back as a welcoming. Logan grunts. Everyone underestimates gentle Hank's brute force.

Storm smiles at me from afar. I sit next to her and Scott despite Jubilee's incessant pleading that I sit with her near Logan. I'm sitting across from him, isn't that enough? I glance back at Logan. The servers come around with our plates of food.

I find Logan digging into his like he hasn't eaten in days. I stare down at my plate and stab my fork into the chicken leg. "Rogue," a gruff voice calls my name. I glance around the table, seeing that everyone was wrapped up in conversation. Then I look at Logan.

He's giving me that Wolverine grin. I blush, my insides turning to goop. "Actually, I go by Marie now."

He nods and takes a sip of his beer. I chuckle softly. Never without his Molson's is Logan. "Marie…" He tries it out on his tongue. "I like it."

I flush again at the compliment. Damn, I think I should just turn pink already. "Thanks." It seems like I don't know what to say to Logan anymore. I'm running out of ideas.

"Mmm," he grunts at me.

"You still cage fightin'?" I ask him. He nods his head slowly, setting down his beer on the table. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Always," he tells me. "Brings in big bucks. They say I'm the best there is."

I purse my lips. "Well you do have bones made out of adamantium." I point out to him. He nods and grins again. "I ought to see you fight one day."

"S'dangerous," he cuts in. "Don't want you gettin' hurt."

I receive a sharp kick under the table from someone who enjoys wearing pointed tipped boots. I hiss and look over at Jubilee. She's smirking and looking down at her plate. I kick her back in agitation. Logan raises an eyebrow when he hears her squeak.

I turn my attention back to him. "I heard your birthday's comin' up soon, kiddo." He comments, using his fork to stab at the green beans. "I got a good present in mind."

I smile at him. "Do ya?"

He nods his head and shovels in a mouthful of country-style green beans. "How old you gon' be, Rogue—ah, Marie?

"I'll be 23," I say.

He grunts and shakes his head in astonishment. Logan looks back down at his food. His chicken's been completely devoured—it's all bones. He eats stuff real good, I guess. I blush a deep red color. _Eats stuff real good_. I slap the naughty thought out of mind before it can develop further.

"So old," he remarks with a little quirk to his lips.

He says it like I'm ancient or something. "Hey," I interject. "Look who's talking, Mr. I-Can't-Age. You were probably around when Da Vinci started paintin' the Mona Lisa."

The whole table starts to laugh. I must have said the comeback pretty loud because some of the other tables start to snicker quietly. Even Logan himself looked like he was amused by my snide little comment.

Really, I wasn't known for making funny comments. That was more along the lines of Jubilee. Me, on the other hand, would usually be the only one laughing at my stupid jokes. "Touché," Logan says, setting his fork down on his plate. "You got me there, kid."

I look down at the table with a rosy blush creeping up in my cheeks. Scott's still laughing because everyone knows that he hates Logan with a passion after he threatened to take Jean away from him (though he still ended up doing so). So that's why I'm sure he's laughing at the joke when nobody else is.

Over the time that Logan was on the road, I made some pretty good friends. Scott and I have become closer than ever. He really let me in after Logan left, because we were both hurting at that time. I could relate to him in ways, and he could relate to me.

Another friend was Remy, the Cajun flirt with the really thick accent. He pursued me whenever he could. At first I admired his forwardness, but now it's kind of feeling pushy. I learned to look past the flirty part of his personality though, and we quickly became good friends over the summer.

Except he still always beats me at Poker and my favorite game, Rummy 500. Hell, the man even beats me at Go-Fish.

I also have a sort-of secret. The reason Scott still likes to hang around his 'student' is because we kissed this one time. He got drunk at the Christmas party three years ago and he tugged me into the hallway to chat. He confessed to me how much of a healing factor I was to him and I said the same about him. Honestly, it touched me that he felt that way.

So Scott kissed me that night. And I kissed him back.

I'll admit that did feel good to be kissed and touched like he did to me. Don't worry, we didn't sleep together. I'm not like that. I know that Scott would have never forgiven himself if we did. And neither would I.

The bond between Scott and I never really broke. We still sort-of talk sort-of sometimes and we sort-of remember our little sort-of secret.

"How old _are_ you, Logan? A century?" Scott asks, beaming brightly. His white-toothed smile nearly blinds me.

"Watch it, Scooter," Logan growls. Everyone laughs again, including me. 'Cept I laugh so hard that tears spring from eyes like a leaky faucet. My real laugh is so hideous that I feel like cringing whenever I hear it. But everyone seems to love it way more than I do. They say it's one of those contagious laughs, that when I start to laugh, everyone joins along.

But the real point is that, after all these years, Logan still hasn't forgotten Scott's old nickname. Logan always knew how to push Scott's buttons and he still does. Scooter was one of those nicknames that he would pay a million dollars to everyone to forget. I dip my spoon into my mashed potatoes and taste the warm gravy on my tongue. The food's been crazy good ever since the academy got a new cook. Jubes agrees too, and that says something since she's a vegetarian and all.

0o0o0o0o

"That really pisses me off," Scott mumbles as he walks down the hallway. I have to nearly run to catch up with him. I'll have to admit that that dinner was one of the best we had in the mess hall. Usually with our table it's all about problems and crap that I don't want to hear about, but tonight it was actually somewhat fun.

"We all know you hate him," I tell him with a laugh. _The whole world knows that Scott Summers hates Logan Howlett with a burning passion._

"Good," Scott grumbles.

"Is it because you hate when he calls you Scooter?" I ask him, even though I already know the answer. It's not like Scott's buttons aren't already pushed.

"You've got to be kidding me," he says, stopping in his tracks. He stares at me like I'm stupid. He steps into his room and stands in the doorway. I look into his room. It's neat, the King sized bed is made perfectly. It's late at night, probably about eleven o' clock at night.

After dinner I had headed to the gardens with Jubes and we sat and gossiped for a few hours. I talked about how much I despised Bobby and she talked about how much she wanted to rip out Kitty's _weave._ Even though Kitty doesn't have a weave, she still wanted to rip something out of Kitty.

"You wanna come in?" Scott asked, taking his voice down a few octaves. He must have noticed me staring at his perfectly made bed. I blush under his heated gaze (ha, ha) and I see his eyes flash with mischief under his special red glasses. I think maybe Scott's had too many beers.

I shake my head and I smile, thinking that if I don't go now Scott will be tempted to fuck me into oblivion. It's a sort-of secret, because last time Scott was drunk he actually did try to. I wouldn't let him, though. And he didn't remember it the next morning, so I didn't tell him. "I'm going to head downstairs for a little late night snack," I tell him quietly. Scott nods his head and begins to unbutton his shirt.

"Night, Marie." He tells me before ripping his white shirt off and closing the door in my face.

"N-night," I stutter. I race down the hallway and down the corridor stairs. It's a lot darker than I remember down there. Everyone's asleep, because Storm says everyone should be in bed by no later than 10:30 at night.

Sometimes I agree with her, sometimes I don't. Tonight I don't. Because there's vanilla ice cream in the freezer calling my name so sweetly, and I just can't resist.

I creep into the kitchen and flick on the lights. _Empty. _I do a mental fist pump. I swing open the refrigerator door and get out the beer. I'm weird because I like odd combinations. I fish out the ice cream from the freezer and get the glass cup from the cabinets.

I scoop out the vanilla ice cream and pop the top of a beer bottle. It was my idea of a root beer float. Except without the 'root' part. I make it my own. I fall in love with each sniff of my beer float.

I dig in, walking over to the kitchen lights and dimming them. I wouldn't want Storm catching me eating my special concoction. I melt into ice cream and beer heaven. Most girls don't like beer; I guess it's an acquired taste.

I get lost in my beer float, the sweet taste of the ice cream and the strong taste of beer. I almost don't notice when a half-naked Logan Howlett waltzes into the kitchen. He's wearing nothing but jeans. I don't think he notices me, because he goes straight for the fridge without a glance my way.

I gaze at the honey-toned skin in his back, how his muscles ripple and jump as he tenses and moves around near the fridge. He pops open a beer and downs half the damn thing in one sip. I stare, holding my spoon near my lips. He slams the fridge door shut turns around.

"Shit." Logan cusses loudly, not realizing that I was standing there all along. His eyes roam over my body, seeing my skanky white tank top that I'd worn under my nice blue blouse earlier. Then he sniffs the air and crinkles his nose. "The hell you drinkin' kid?"

I gulp. Suddenly the room has become awful warm and I can feel myself beginning to sweat. "Uhm…It's ah beer float," I tell him. I can tell that he admires my drink choice with the way he smirks.

"Well, that's different," he says. I stir my float with my spoon and take another sip. He tips the bottle to his lips, his eyes never leaving me. "I thought you'd be in bed."

I nod, and shake my glass. "Me too. But I needed a little something extra." He snorts and gives me one of those trademark Wolverine grins, where one corner of his mouth pulls up when he gets amused.

"A little somethin' extra, huh?"

I find myself blushing again. I glance over at the clock and see that it's nearing 11:00 at night. It would probably be a good idea to head back to my rooms before Storm really does find me down here and give me hell for it for the next week. I'm still classified as a student and she says that I should be treated like the others to be fair.

I finish the beer and ice cream and put the empty glass into the sink, rinsing it under the faucet. "I better head back to bed before someone catches me down here…cause I ain't supposed to be down 'ere." I try to exit the kitchen, but he blocks me from doing so.

"Your birthday's soon, ain't it?" he asks me. I nod at him. I'm surprised he even remembered. He only remembered my age because I told him, not because he kept track of my birthdays.

I wondered why he wondered. Logan was the kind of person that just didn't give a shit about anything or anyone. And I honestly didn't think he gave a shit about me either. Since he was always on the road…since I'm just the _kid_, and that's all I will ever be. "Yeah, it's tomorrow."

"Well, damn that's pretty close, ain't it? Yer gon' be 23, right?" he asks me. I can smell the Molson's on his breath. It's a familiar scent to me. Whenever I think of Logan, the various smells of him come to my mind. And that's how it will always be. Pine, cigar smoke, beer, and fresh mint will always belong to Logan.

"We just talked about this at dinner." I state.

He snorts at me. Well, it was true. I knew Logan was thirteen years older than me, and probably stayed that way for a long time, but I didn't expect him to show the first signs of Alzheimer's. "Sorry. M' a lil' bit drunk, s'all."

"Not that drunk," I reply. "I can smell it on your breath."

"Yer right," Logan agrees. "Not that drunk. Will be soon, though. But before I do, I wanted to tell you that I got…I got a cabin up in the mountains."

I stare at him, missing the point. "That's cool." I figured that's where Logan's been hiding out for the past four years on his road trip that was going to clear his mind.

He shakes his head. "Yer missin' the point, kid." He tells me. It's true, though, so I nod my head. "I wanna take ya up there tomorrah fer yer birthday. We can stay up for a week, or so, and just…dunno, hang out and catch up. I missed ya, kid. Thought about ya a lot."

I'm touched, I really am. I didn't think that Logan gave a flying shit about me. And I certainly didn't think that he missed me and thought about me a lot. The realization that he had missed me and thought about me was like a bucket of cold water in the face. "I…I missed ya too, Logan. I thought about ya a lot too."

He momentarily ignores his beer and brings me in for another hugs. Two hugs from the Wolverine in one day? You could damn well say that that was unheard of. Then he says something that kind of catches me off guard. "Why didn't you write back to me when I sent ya those letters?" he asks, his face still buried in the crook of my neck.

My eyes widen. I was definitely not expecting him to ask me that question. "I did write to you." I protest.

"You know which one I'm talking about, Marie." I froze when he said my name. Not 'kid', not 'Rogue', **Marie. **I…I don't even know what to say to that, so I pretend to not hear what he asked me.

"The cabin sounds like a great idea. You wanna go up tomorrow?" I pull back and smile at him. He looks a little bit hurt, but he doesn't continue the previous conversation.

"Sure, if ya want. It's a little bit away from here, though." He tells me, running a hand through his hair.

_Thank the fucking Lord for not continuing the conversation. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you—_

"Sounds good! And I don't mind the distance, see. It's, ah, nice that you're takin' me to ya cabin." I tell him. My face is burning so badly that I'm surprised I'm not glowing like a damned stoplight. "I'll see ya tomorrah, Logan. G'night."

He watches me as I exit the room. He pulls out a cigar and lights it. "Night…kid." I heave a sigh and turn the corner. Apparently tomorrow I'd be packin' my bags for a week or so to go up to Logan's cabin for my bir thday.

Holy shit. Hot damn.

**0o0o0o0o**

**Review if you like, please :) They make me happy. It is the season of giving, am I right?**

**Hugs and Smooches,**

**Courtney {Howlett}**

**(he's mine girls.)**


	2. The Wolverine's Hideout

_**Author's Note:**_** Hey all! Thanks for all of the reviews. I should have replied to all reviewers that are a member of the site. But to the guest reviewers, thank you guys too! The M rating for this story is because of the language, dialogue, violence, and most of all, sexual content. (:**

**A lot of people were pretty anxious about this chapter. I hope this one is long enough to satisfy an appetite. More soon, don't worry. ALSO, I should have a banner for The Cabin and a YouTube trailer sometime in the future. I will let you guys now.**

**I've started to make a soundtrack for this story, and I'll put a song on each chapter that, if this book was a movie, would be in it. Once this story's done I'll make a Grooveshark playlist or something and add the songs onto it. **

**Song: Each Coming Night by Iron and Wine [great song choice, Courtney!]**

**Chapter 2: The Wolverine's Hideout**

"_You mean, you're leaving with Logan tonight to go up to his cabin for a week? And it's just you two, alone, in the wilderness?" her eyes widened. "You'll be stuck with him for a week and you're going to be spending quality time with the effing Wolverine."_

_I nodded at Jubilee. "Yeah, you pretty much summed it right up." I sit in my chair and pull my blanket up to my chin. Jubes turns around from her seat on the computer to look at me. I blush and open my book back up._

_Shaking her head in pure amazement, "Jesus, that's hardcore."_

"_It's just for a week," I explain to my best friend. "I'll call you when I have time, send you pictures and stuff. But I think it's nice that Logan's doing this for me."_

_Jubes snorted. "Yeah, you'll think it's nice when Logan's __**doing you**__ as well." _

_I slap her arm lightly, surprised that she said something. I never knew that a simple sentence could make me blush so much. Maybe it was because I kind of was thinking the same exact thing. _"_You talk a lot of bumblefuck." I told her, narrrowing my eyes slightly._

"_That is so my word," Jubilee points out. She unwraps a piece of bubblegum and sticks it into her mouth. "You're basically telling Bobby to suck a dick. More specifically, Wolvie's dick."_

_I nod my head. I like that idea. "Don't forget Kitty."_

_Jubes holds up her hand. "I don't think you'd like it if Kitty was sucking Wolvie's dick, chica."_

_I think over it, and I come to the conclusion that I'd rip out Kitty's hair if she ever did that. "You're right."_

_Jubilee blew a gum bubble and I popped it with the tip of my fingernail. "Kitty can suck Magneto's dick," she says._

_I crinkle my nose and begin to laugh. "Ewww," I said. She joins me in laughter. "He's an old man."_

_"You're right." Jubes agrees. "Ewww. But that's my point!"_

0o0o0o0o0o

"Kid." I feel someone jostling me awake. I groan and turn my head away. I hear a sigh and someone jostles me a little harder. "Kid, wake up."

My eyes suddenly fly open, and I realize who was trying to wake me up. Logan was right. It was a long ride from the academy up to his cabin. I fell asleep sometime along the way after we had stopped for ice cream at some gas station.

It was five o' clock when we'd left. Jubilee hadn't let me leave without throwing me a party first. She invited literally everyone, including the new mutants, and literally everyone came. Some brought presents, some brought cards, and some brought food and hugs.

I got perfume from Storm that smelled like fresh rain and a necklace from Scott. Hank bought me fuzzy blue slippers that really reminded me of him, and Jubes got me some new clothes just to be funny.

The strips of lingerie were hidden under a pair of new jeans with a note attached to them that said: _Tell Logan I said you're welcome._

I sat up in my seat and rubbed my eyes. It had taken 3 hours to get to the Wolverine's hideout, and the time read 8:00. It was dark, but I could faintly make out the outline of the little cabin. It was obviously wooden, but it was crafted nicely with lots of windows and elaborate designs.

Logan pulled the key out of the pickup truck and the engine died down. I'd been sleeping for two hours. He opens the truck door and gets out. I watch him walk around back to where our suitcases were kept. I opened my side of the door and gasped as the cold air hit me. It was a lot colder than I had expected.

He comes around the corner with our suitcases in his hands and a cigar in his mouth. He drops his suitcase to fish a pair of keys out of his jean pocket and tosses them to me. Logan nods towards the door. "Make yourself useful, kid."

I fumble with the keys in my hand and make my way up to the porch. I stick them into the lock and open the door and the screen door. Logan follows behind me with the suitcases. It's dark inside and I can hardly see anything.

He thrusts the suitcases on something that looks like a couch and flicks on the lights. "Damn," I cuss only because I'm in awe. This cabin…is actually somewhat nice. There's modern furniture and glossy wooden chairs and tables.

Yeah, it's a small cabin, but it's cute. The living room leads into a small country kitchen and there's a spare bedroom that is visible from the kitchen area. There's a bathroom near some wooden steps that lead up over the kitchen to the Master bedroom. The Master bedroom almost looks like some sort of attic with a balcony that overlooks the rest of the cabin.

Next to the bedroom there's a spare room with a table and a few chairs. I pass Logan to look into the room. There's a box of colorful pens and markers as well as a box of charcoals and paints lying near a pile of blank white sheets of art paper. There's also a canvas for painting set up right in front of a huge glass window.

I almost don't notice when he comes up behind me to check out the spare room. "How do ya like it?" he asks me. I turn, smiling and nodding my head in approval.

"It's great," I say, then point to the box of paints and charcoals. "I had no idea that ya liked paintin', Logan."

He snorts and shakes his head, walking back into the living room. "A friend gave me this ol' cabin 'ere. His wife was an artist so she had all this artsy shit. It don't hafta be here…I can get rid of it if ya want somethin' else here."

I shake my head. "It's fine, leave it. I might use it." I didn't say anything else to him about that after. I just sort of left out the part where I had sort of become an artist over the time he was gone. I figured he was going to find out soon enough.

He points to the balcony-Master-bedroom. "You can have that one, an' I'll take the spare bedroom." For some reason I want to reach out and tell him that it's okay and that I'd be fine with the idea of sleeping in the same bed. But I wasn't exactly sure that he'd be up for that one.

So I settle for: "That sounds good." I roll my suitcase over to the stairs that led up to my bedroom. I hear him rustling around in the fridge, for a beer probably. When I look back at him, I see that I'm right. He holds his Molson's in one hand, but a slice of cake in the other. He chews on his cigar and sets the plate of cake on the kitchen table.

I stare at it. _Like I didn't have enough cake today._ I sit down at the table anyways. He hands me a fork from the drawer and I pull the plastic wrap off of the cake. Mmm, chocolate cake with vanilla icing. I dig my fork into it and shovel a piece into my mouth and try not to gag.

He sits down with his Molson's at the other end of the table and eyes me up carefully. "Ya like it?" he asks. I nod my head, even though it's an obvious lie and take another timid bite of the cake. He grins. "So I did good."

My ears perk up at that. "Logan…" I begin slowly, painfully swallowing another bite. "Did you make this cake?"

He pauses before nodding his head. I'm freakin' surprised. I take another bite of cake. I look at him at the other end of the table with his cigar between his fingers as he takes a sip of beer. He taps the ashes into an ashtray and wipes his mouth the back of his hand.

Suddenly, I burst into a fit of laughter. It makes him choke on his beer; he slams the bottle down on the table and hacks into the corner of his arm. "Jesus fuck—" Cough, cough. "Marie, what the fu—" Cough, cough, cough.

I continue laughing, and it gets to the point where tears spring from my eyes. Logan stares at me in bewilderment, but his expression only urges me on. "You…" Fuck it, I can't finish the sentence.

"What?" Logan asks me. "Kid, cut it out and talk."

I take a bite of my cake and force myself to calm down a little. I swallow thickly and sigh. "I—It's just that I never thought that a manly man like you would ever be bakin' a cake for me."

He stuffs his cigarette back into his mouth and grouches at me. "I was trynta be nice and do somethin' for ya," he protests.

I nod my head and take another bite of the cake. I tried to be nice too, by not saying that the cake was horrible. I think he's missing something in the batter—like flour, or maybe even the goddamn sugar. "I can just picture ya standin' with an apron on mixing batter for a chocolate cake...breakin' eggs and pourin' flour an'…"

I can't continue. I'm gonna die. Logan sits at the opposite end, watching me laugh my ass off while he grouches with his cig and his beer. "Fine, then next time maybe I'll leave the bakin' to you."

I nod my head and set down my fork. "Fahne with me, sugah."

He growls at me in warning. I haven't called him 'sugah' in years, and he never really liked when I used to do it. He thought it made him sound feminine, but I would always disagree. He gets up from his seat after I've finished the cake and clears his throat.

"S'late, and it's pretty much useless t'do anythin' at this time of night," he tells me. "I'm gonna go outside and chop some wood for the fireplace. You stay inside an' get yer bed ready, or put on your sleep clothes."

I throw the plate and fork into the sink and rinse them off. "Pajamas, you mean."

He pulls his cigar out of his mouth and blows a puff of smoke my way. "Pajamas. Whatever the fuck ya say, kid." He exits the cabin and I stick my clean dish and fork onto the drying rack.

I swerve my body around the table and near my suitcase. It's heavy because I think I must have packed everything I would have possibly needed for just a few days. I lug it up the stairs and gaze at my bedroom.

The bed's huge and nice sheets and pillows adorn it. I throw my suitcase aside and collapse on the bed. The ceiling's pure wooden logs. My bed's propped up against the little balcony, and I feel like I'm a spy with the way I secretly peek over the edge.

Outside I hear an axe coming down hard on a chopping block. With interest I walk over to the window that overlooked the backyard (this bedroom has a lot of good views) and saw Logan fiddling around with an axe. I open the window, and instantly I am bombarded with scents of the forest and nature.

The pine trees and tall oaks and shedding maples sway with the wind. It had rained on our way up here and everything was wet and muddy, leaving this distinct 'foresty' smell lingering in the air.

"Fuck this fuckin' dull ass axe."

My eyes snap down to Logan. He has broken my trance almost instantly due to his foul mouth. I stare at him as he chops the wood. He lands the axe perfectly down on the wood but it only cuts it half way.

Using context clues like: "Fuck this fuckin' dull ass axe" and the fact that the wood wasn't completely being cut in half when he landed a blow perfectly, I put together the conclusion that the axe is dull is the Wolverine is getting aggravated quickly.

He swung down the axe and yet again, the wood didn't fully chop. She could see he was getting angry with the way his face reddened and the veins near his temples bunched and popped out as he tenses and clenches the muscles in his face.

With a mighty roar, he popped his claws with a 'snikt' and went bitch-ass-crazy on the logs of woods, having them cut up in a suitable size for the fireplace in a matter of seconds. "Shit," I hear him mutter softly, long after he's calmed down. "Shoulda done that in the first place."

I shut the window and chuckle to myself. I realize that there's no door to my room. It's just a balcony room and there's pretty much no privacy for when I change into new clothes. Without hesitation I throw open my suitcase and quickly strip down bare and slip on my underwear and sweat pants as well as a comfortable sports bra to go under my tight

Just as I pull my shirt over my stomach, I hear Logan kick open the front door with a grunt. I kick my discarded clothes into the corner and storm downstairs to greet him. He throws some logs into the fireplace and lights the logs with his little blue lighter.

Then he turns to look at me. His eyes are dark and they burn something through me. He grins slightly and sits down on the couch. I sway in my place. He looks over at me before throwing his cigar into the flames. "I won't bite, kid…" he murmurs. I start to move towards the couch. Then he adds, "…unless you want me to." I grin and plop down next to him, cuddling into his side.

He stretches his arm across the back of the seat, his forearm resting softly against my neck. I lay my head on his chest and listen to him breathe, the air whooshing through his adamantium bones.

"Logan?" I murmur. He grunts in acknowledgement. I tilt my head up to see him staring into the fireplace with faraway eyes. "Why did you come back?"

He seems to drift back to reality when he begins to think about my question, though he answers it like it's a no-brainer. "For yeh birthday, o'course."

I pull back out of his grasp and lean up against the other side of the couch. He looks at me now. It's getting dark outside and I can hear the wind whistling outside of the cabin. The only light inside the cabin's the fireplace, because he turned off the kitchen light when he came back inside.

He looks puzzled, like that 'why did she leave my arms' kind of puzzled. "Well…what was so special about my 23rd birthday?" I ask him. He begins to ponder it, but I don't let him. "You didn't come back when I turned 20, or 21, or 22. It's not like 23's a huge celebration, not like 16 or 21. You missed 21, when it would have mattered that you were there. 23's an odd number, of no significance whatsoever. So why now?"

He shrugs. "I dunno."

I shake my head. I'm not having it…I'm not buying into his tricks and games. "Yes, you do know, and you're gonna tell me." I stretch out my leg and nudge him in the thigh with my big toe.

"Maybe I missed yeh."

"You don't miss me. You don't miss no one." I practically growl at him. He growls back at me, but never takes his eyes away from the fire. But I want myself to be wrong, terribly wrong. I want him to have missed me while he was away, thought about me. I know he told me that he missed me and thought about me a lot, but it…it was all too good to be true.

"Ain't true, kid. I tol' you I missed ya a lot. Thought about ya…a lot."

I heave a sigh and lean up against the arm of the couch. The room is quickly heating up with the help of the fireplace and Logan being upset. Before the conversation spirals out of control, I get up from the couch and make my way into the kitchen.

But I'm too late.

"And what about that letter, Marie?"

_Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit. __**Dammit.**_

"You know, I really don't want to talk about this right now." I open the fridge and pop open a Molson's. _His _Molson's.

"Bullshit. You wanna argue, let's argue. Now get your little white ass over here and talk to me about that damned letter." Logan growls loudly.

I feel like a kid, murmuring _I don't wanna_ over and over to myself. I feel my eyes brimming with tears. My back is turned to Logan, I can't see him. But he wants to make me see him. I can hear him get up from the couch and approach me.

"I don't wanna argue…" I mumble.

"Yes you do, because you brought it up, sassin' me and such," he growls, forcing me to turn around. "So talk, darlin', because my patience is wearin' real thin."

Tears overflow my eyelids and go streaming down my face. His face instantly turns from angry and stern to sorry and compassionate. "I don't want to talk about it!" I yell at him. I push past him to the living room. He comes after me, probably to argue some more.

But he doesn't. Big, muscular arms wrap around my body and pull me close. "Kid, I'm sorry. Yeh don't hafta talk about it. I'm sorry for bringin' it up."

I wipe my tears away (fuck these shitty girl hormones) and nod my head. "And…I'm sorry I sassed ya. I didn't mean to start an argument with ya." He kisses me on the forehead, which kind of surprises me, but I don't flinch and run away.

"We okay, darlin'?" He asks, and I nod my head.

"Yeah."

"Good." He brings us back down the couch, his arms still wrapped around me. I'm forced to straddle his waist, which makes me extremely uncomfortable. I struggle against him, which only makes him groan.

Was it a pleasure groan? When I look down, I see that I'm practically riding his now-erected manhood with each wiggle of my hips. My face pales. If that's even possible.

"I should get up," I say. I try to pull back, but he groans again.

"Stay," he says firmly.

I need an excuse to get up, because this position, sitting on Logan and riding him like a pony, ain't doin' me good. "I'm cold."

_Even though there's a roaring fire? Great one, Marie._

As quick as the blink of an eye, Logan reaches behind the couch and pulls out a soft red blanket, laying it over us both. "Relax," he tells me. I do what he says. I feel my body go limp against his and I nuzzle into his neck. He strokes my hair gently and I relish the feeling of it.

His fingers through my hair, stroking gently and sending tingles through me. Why was he making me feel like this? He made it clear that he didn't want me like that years ago, so what changed now?

I can feel my eyelids starting to droop. I know that if I don't get up, I might fall asleep on Logan. Not that it was a bad idea. I let myself go. Being tired beats all.

0o0o0o0o0o

I wake up when I feel myself being lifted, cradled in his arms. I crack my right eye open a bit and see that we're obviously not in the living room. The fire's still roaring back there. Logan's making his way up the steps. He's daring, but strong. Real strong.

I shut my eyes quickly when he looks down at me to see me sleeping. I open my eye again a moment later to see him smiling up at the ceiling. It's dark in my room, because the only light was the fire, and now that's downstairs.

He nudges the sheets down and lays me on the bed. I don't stir, I'm too tired. He pulls the sheets and the comforter over my body and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. I'm almost hoping he'll kiss me. Something chaste, like a little peck on the cheek or the forehead.

But he doesn't. I hear him try to tiptoe back down the wooden stairs. It ends up sounding like he's stomping down them, though. I snuggle into my pillow and pull the covers up to my chin. This bed's soft and warm, but it would be warmer if he was sleeping in it with me.

I was mostly awake now, due to his stomping around on the steps. I can hear him opening the fridge and popping open a beer. I smile into the pillow.

Logan plus his Molson's equaled happiness.

I can't help but think of how Logan pulled me onto his lap in a straddling position. It was probably the most erotic moment of my life, and that says something for me. (Ahem, like I haven't had that many erotic moments in my life.) My heart had been pounding against my chest like a drum.

I turn over onto my back. Through the window I can see the stars and the moon sparkling. In the city, you can hardly see anything in the night sky. You'd be lucky to see a lone star, or maybe even a planet, because those looked like huge stars even though they weren't. They're planets.

Excuse my rambling.

But the point was, out here the sky was littered with stars. There were so many that I thought God went crazy with a glitter bottle and had clumps of glittery stars here and there. I closed my eyes.

I need to stop thinking. I need to sleep.

Downstairs I hear Logan retreat into his bedroom. The bed squeaks beneath his weight and he rolls around like a pig in mud trying to get comfortable. At least I think he's trying to get comfortable.

I open my eyes wide. What could he be doing down in the privacy of his bedroom? Oh, the naughty thoughts. Oh my gosh. Images of Logan jerking off fill my mind. I bite my lip and cross my legs in the bed.

_Marie, you fucking need to sleep._

I shut my eyes and bury my face in the pillow. Inner conscience is right. Before these thoughts get me into too much trouble, I better fucking sleep.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

**Thanks for reading! Please leave my sorry ass a little review because they make me feel good. And they make Logan work his charm faster, too. (;**

**Courtney xx**


	3. The Huntress and Her Discoveries

**Author's Note****: Happy late New Years! Here's another chapter to satisfy story hunger! I've been working a lot lately for you guys :)**

**I also wanted to thank C-Jay-CD for telling me what tartan was :D**

**Song: Bad Things by Jace Everett (Gawd, what a sexy song :D)**

**Chapter 3: The Huntress and Her Discoveries**

"What the hell, Jubes? It's seven in the morning."

_Early enough. I just needed to talk to you before I went to class. Even though Scott's nickname is One Eye, he can spot a girl with a cellphone in her desk two miles away._

"What do you want? Make it quick. I want to go back to bed."

_Boo-hoo. I have to get up at 6:30 every day for freakin' school. You're at a freakin' cabin in the middle of nowhere with your one true love. How is it up there, Roguey?_

I yawn and push back my hair. It's probably a tangled mess. "He made me cake."

_Birthday cake? Aww, that's so sweet. Now I'm going to tear up._

"It tasted like crap, there's nothing to tear up about," I snort.

_What it tasted like doesn't matter, chica. It's the thought that counts. Did you say thank you?_

"Sort of…"

_Sort of? Explain pronto. _

"I kind of laughed at him."

_You little bitch! He's too nice to you, he really is._

I laugh. "I know. But then he got feisty later."

_Feisty? Like angry, or sexual?_

I crinkle my nose. "Angry, Jubilee. Angry."

_How so? Is it because you laughed at him for making the cake?_

"No, it's because I kind of argued with him on the topic of 'why he came back to the academy'," I whisper. "And then he brought up the topic of the letter."

_Oooh, the letter. How did he even find out about that?_

"I have no clue. He says I sent it to him. But I don't remember anything," I shook my head, my brown curls coming down in front of my face. "I think I would remember."

_Unless you didn't realize you sent the wrong thing._

I pause. "You know what, you might be onto something. But he can't expect me to just want to talk about that. When he wrote back to me…it was probably the most embarrassing thing in my life. I mean Jubes, I remember writing that letter when I was 16, wanting that, but when I sent the wrong letter when I was 20…"

_Yeah chica, I know. You don't have to explain to me. I can only imagine myself doing the same thing with Colussus. Writing a sexy letter to him would officially ruin my life._

Pretty much everyone in the entire school knew that Jubilee had a crush on Colussus (Peter) except Colussus himself. Jubes had been heartbroken once she found out that Colussus was working his butt off trying to get Kitty to notice him. That only fueled Jubilee's hate towards Kitty even more.

_You're on this vacation with the effing man of your dreams and I'm back here with Scooter-bug and Remy prince charmer LeBeau. Oh, and don't forget Bobby frozen-heart with his slut. Do you know what I caught them doing after gym class yesterday?_

I'm almost afraid to ask. My ex-boyfriend was no concern of mine, but the way she said it really intrigued me. "Tell me, were they making out?"

_Yeah, he was making out with Kitty's kitty._

My face goes bright red and I try to push the horrible thought out of my mind. "That is so freakin' sick."

_And then he stuck his icicle in her and let me tell you, I wanted to spark them both for doing that in the locker rooms!_

"Too much," I say and cringe.

_Sorry. _

Downstairs I hear a loud curse that's echoing from Logan's mouth, and the distinct smell of smoke and burning. What the hell? I ignore Jubes on the phone momentarily and look over the balcony. Smoke's floating into the living room. I can't see what Logan's doing, but I know that a cigar doesn't give off that much smoke.

"Shit Jubes, I have to go!"

_What are you talking about? I have a half hour until class starts and I woke myself up this early to talk to your lazy ass up in the mountains._

"I think Logan might burn the house down," I tell her.

_What?_

I press the 'end call' button and run down the stairs to save Logan from certain death. "What are you doing?" I yell at him over the loud smoke alarms that he's set off. He's holding a pan with a shriveled up and blackened piece of food stuck to the bottom of it. He's tried to cook for me. Again.

I grab the pan from him and take it to the sink, rinsing it with cool water. He takes to shutting off the smoke alarms. I set the pan onto the table, staring at the burnt piece of food that's stuck to the inside of it.

He turns around and stares at me. He sparks a flame inside of my body somewhere and I always feel liquid heat coursing through my veins. I gulp and point at the pan. "What were ya doin', Logan?"

He scratches the back of his head. "See, I was tryna make ya some breakfast to wake up to." I smile at the thought and shake my head.

"I told ya to leave the cookin' to me, sugah." I stare at the pan and touch it with my finger. "But…what even is that?"

He grunts and takes the pan from my hand, bringing it closer to his face. He squints his eyes, scrutinizing it. "Think it's eggs, darlin'..." He tells me.

I begin to laugh and he thrusts the pan back at me, trying to look all manly by stuffing a cigar into his mouth and opening the fridge looking for a Molson's. I set the pan in the sink and catch him by the arm.

I hug him tightly, running my hands up and down his muscled back, reaching his lower back and gripping the wife beater in my hands. "Thank you, though." He seems surprised that I've hugged him.

He blows a puff of smoke out of his mouth and looks down at me. "Yer welcome. And do me a favor, kid."

I nod my head. "Alright…"

"Put a shirt on for me. It must be pretty cold down here."

I gasp and look down. I must have peeled my t-shirt off during the night, only leaving me in my sports bra. I ran my fingers through my hair and gaped. He smirks, his eyes floating down to my chest. I blush.

Is this all a dream? Him looking at my boobs with a sort of passionate, lustful look in his eyes. I cover my chest and make my way over to the steps. "Wait—" he calls, holding up my t-shirt that he picked up off of the couch. I gape slightly. I had my shirt on last night, I went to bed with it…so it should be up in my room, right? "You took it off last night."

And then he gave me a shit-eating grin that made me want to crawl into a hole and die. I suddenly began to wonder what the hell I was doing with him last night. Holy shit. I take the shirt hesitantly and slip it over my head. His eyes never leave my chest.

Heh. Horny bastard.

"What you gon' be doin' today, Lo?" I ask him, stuffing my hands in the warm pockets of my sweatpants. He pops off the top of his Molson's and takes a swig before answering. I watch as he gulps it down, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. I lick my lips.

He checks the time on his watch and pulls on his boots and jacket. "I should go huntin' for dinner t'night."

I stare at him quizzically. "What? It's seven in the morning and dinner's hours and hours away." I put my hands on my hips. "You tryna get away from me?"

He chuckles and slips on his jacket. "Yeh can come too. I gotta set some traps." I nod my head and look down at myself.

"Can I at least get ready first? Put something on that's suitable and maybe spruce up a little with some makeup…" I blush under his gaze.

"Yeh don't need makeup," he tells me and pushes back a wisp of my whitened bangs.

I nod. "Okay, maybe I don't need that. But I do need to get dressed." He sits down on the couch and laces up his boots.

I stare at him for a few seconds. "Go," he says, smoke curling out of his mouth. "Yah got 20 minutes."

0o0o0o0o0o

I'm ready to leave 20 minutes later, slipping on my brown leather boots and tucking my skinny jeans into them. I'm wearing a purple tartan button up shirt (ironically unbuttoned) with a black camisole underneath it. My hair's still wet from the shower, but I layered on some makeup to make myself feel good. If I was going to be out in the open, I at least wanted feel like I looked good.

He's already got his winter coat on and his hat that smoothed down his untamed dark brown hair. I think it's a good look on him. He's standing at the doorway holding my winter coat in his left hand. He shoves it at me and I put it on.

"It's gettin' cold out there," he tells me, pushing open the front door. I reach into my pockets and finger with the black gloves I've got stashed in there. "Probably 30, 40 degrees out there, so bundle up kid."

I nod my head and follow him down off of the porch. The grass is frosted lightly and crunches when I step onto it. He looks back at me and waves at me to follow him into a fairly large garage.

Inside there's a whole rack of tools and useful items that any normal man would have in there, but what intrigues me the most is the snowmobile and the four-wheeler sitting in the corner. He swings his leg over the shiny blue four-wheeler seat and uses the keys chained to the handle to rev it up.

"Open the garage door," he calls over the loud motor noises that the vehicle makes. I push open both doors and stand aside as Logan drives the four-wheeler out of the garage, down the ramp, and into the grass. I shut the doors behind him and watch as he stops before the house. "Get on," he tells me.

I rub my hands through the gloves and nervously swing a leg over the back of the four-wheeler. I grab his jacket to steady myself before wrapping my arms around his middle and holding on for dear life. My heart pounds as my body presses up against his; and even through the layers of clothes that we have on, I feel naked when I am with him.

He starts the four-wheeler into motion and we quickly go rumbling across the long stretch of land until we reach the forest. It's mid-November, but the air feels like it's lingered in January for quite some time. My hair flies out in waves behind me and I laugh in amusement and thrill…because I've never been on a four-wheeler in my entire life.

I see him smiling ahead of me. He takes the speed up another notch as we enter the forest. I cling onto him like he's the rope that will suspend me above a pit of acid, or something.

We whiz by stick bare trees with branches that look like twisted human arms and fingers. Piles of leaves fly up as Logan runs them over with the four-wheeler, sending browned leaves into the air. One catches in my hair, but is quickly ripped out by the wind.

He drives around the bend in the forest, and I clutch him tighter so I don't fall off. We're nearing a small stream that's probably 2 and a half feet deep, or so. "Logan?" I call to him.

"Put your legs up, kid," he grunts. I do as he says. Logan flies through the stream water splashing up at us. He lifted his legs as well, but he wasn't as flexible as I was. His boots are caked with cold mud and his pants splattered with stream water. He doesn't seem to care like I would have cared, though.

Soon enough we arrive at our first destination. It's at a small tree. He gets off of the four-wheeler before I can and walks over to the tree that shielded the first snaring trap. The trap was a snare, with a snared squirrel attached to it.

Logan laughed and clapped his hands in excitement. "Hello dinner," he said. "Fresh meat!" I cringe and look away. I get that he's big on hunting, but watching an animal die isn't exactly my cup of tea. He takes a small hunting knife out of his jean pocket and flips out the blade.

"You might wanna look away."

I find myself walking away back towards the four-wheeler as Logan prepares to take the life from the squirrel. I look back a minute later to see Logan holding the dead squirrel in his hands and cutting the wire with his bloody knife.

"Is that it?" I ask him. I don't know what drove me to hop on the back of that four-wheeler to see him kill squirrels, but it certainly teaches me a valuable lesson about hunting.

"No," he shakes his head and ties a thin string around the neck of the squirrel. "Gotta check the other traps before we head back to the cabin…can't have good meat going to waste."

He thrusts the dead squirrel into a random compartment on the four-wheeler and gets on. I stand with my lips parted, breathing in the cold air. I probably looked like Rudolph the red nosed reindeer at this time.

He grins at me. "You gettin' on, sweetheart?" he asks me. _Sweetheart, _I think. _It suits me._

I timidly follow him back onto the four-wheeler and he drives away deeper into the forest to look for more snared animals.

0o0o0o0o0o

It took up a good 3 hours to finish checking the traps. Well it was more like checking the traps took an hour and a half, and the other half of the 3 hours we spent was just us fooling around in the forest.

We're home now, with a rabbit and a squirrel to prepare for dinner. He put the dead animals into a freezer box down in the basement and assured me that before dinner started, he'd skin them for me and get them ready for cooking.

I made us some sandwiches for lunch, and since we missed out on breakfast I opened a bag of chips and washed up some apples. After he finished lunch, he retreated into his room for a good twenty minutes to do god-knows-what. I leaved that to imagination instead of badgering him about it. The silence and privacy left to me to catch up on Pride and Prejudice, anyways.

I hear him exit his bedroom. He walks into the living room and grins at me. It's one o' clock in the afternoon and I'm already looking for something to do with him next. "What's on your mind, kid?" he asks me. I'll admit that I'm a little upset that he hasn't adopted_ sweetheart_ as a name in place of _kid._

"Nothing much," I tell him. He sits down next to me on the couch, the seat dipping under his weight. He wraps an arm around me and I snuggle into him. I can't help but smell him to smell the scent of Logan.

_Pine, smoke, beer, and mint. Mmmmmm._

I set Pride and Prejudice on an end table and look at him. His cigar stuck out of his mouth. I can't help my curiosity. I slide into his lap so I'm straddling his thighs. His eyes widen slightly. "Kid, what are you—"

I grab the cigar from his mouth and stick it in mine. I try to smoke it, but I end up choking myself. I feel like a fire-breathing dragon the way the cigar smoke curls out of my mouth. He takes his cigar back and stuffs it back into his mouth.

"Ya inhaled too much," he tells me. I'm still coughing. He lets me dismount his lap and run to the kitchen for a glass of water. He puffs the cigar some more and watches me. "Ya ain't s'posed ta inhale the fumes, just suck enough so the flame starts."

I cough again after downing the water. "Well, I didn't know it wasn't like cigarettes!" He snorted and shook his head. I fill up another glass.

He shrugs at me. "Well…then that'll teach ya, won't it?"

I point at the cigar. "It just looks like an overgrown cigarette," I complain.

He waves it around in the air, painting a smoke picture. "Well, it ain't, darlin'." Logan grins his perfect, flashing white smile and melts my heart.

I take another sip to keep myself hydrated before him. "Look at you," I murmur, a hint of venom in my tone. "You're Logan Howlett, fucking bad to the bone. Yah wearin' yah aviators and yah leather jackets, hair slicked back all nice and fine. Yah smokin' yah cigar and drinking that Molson's. Yah know yah bad because yah hunt and yah trap. Yah fight in cages and pick up bar flies with the wink of your eye because you're so…so…"

He puffs smoke. "Ya done, kid?"

I run a hand through my hair. "Yeah."

He gets up and walks through the kitchen to sit at the table. I give him a slight smile and hum a few bars of the song. He shoots me look that says 'watch it' and then breaks a smile at me.

I lean up against the refrigerator and gaze at him. He's so gorgeous and feral. When he growls, it rips right through like a knife tipped with passion. "Somethin' on yer mind?" he asks me. "Nickel for yer thoughts."

"It's penny for your thoughts."

"Hell with pennies, I happen to like nickels better."

I sit down at the table and stare at him from across the table. It's a small table; our knees touch beneath it and he moves his foot so that it's resting between my legs. I don't question him, though. "Er…how's Nikki?"

He taps some ashes into the ashtray and stares at me in an analyzing way. "You don't give a fuck and you know it, darlin.'" He reaches across the short distance of the table and grabs my hand. "Why are ya askin'?"

I shrug my shoulders and let him wrap his warm hand around mine. "Jus' curious…" I murmur. "Still goin' strong after the last letter you sent me?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Darlin', I never was officially with that floozy." He grips his cigar tighter. "Fake silicon tits and ass, shitty dyed blonde hair and that anorexic belly just wasn't having it for me. Plus she was so loose that ya pro'lly coulda fit four more dicks into 'er."

I held up my hands in horror. "Too much information, Logan!" I screech. I was absolutely mortified that he was talking about his sex life with his ex-girlfriend to me. It kind of flattered me that he felt comfortable enough to talk about that around me, but it only stuck me in the friend zone. Goddamn, the man wasn't shy.

"Sorry," he tells me. "Didn't mean to make things uncomfortable."

_We're 1000 miles away from uncomfortable, _I think. But instead of saying anything out loud, I smile meekly and slide out of the chair.

"Listen, kid. I think I'm going to go outside and mow the lawn—damn thing's like a jungle out there. I haven't mowed it in a while, it'd be good…" Logan gets up and slips on his boots.

"Alright, I'll wait in here." I tell him, twiddling my fingers.

He nods at me and slips outside, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was here, he was gone. I was left inside of the house to do damn whatever I pleased. I saw a broom laying the corner and the thought crossed my mind. I could clean.

0o0o0o0o0o

It's been 10 minutes that Logan's been outside mowing the lawn and I've been sitting here bored out of my mind. I got an idea two minutes ago to clean, but I could never clean the damn house without a little something to inspire me. I fanned myself on the couch. God, this cabin was getting hot.

I plugged my iPod into the amplifier and out flowed the best Country music that would make any person in their right mind fall in love.

_When you came in the air went out _

_And every shadow filled up with doubt_

_I don't know who you think you are_

_But before the night is through_

_I wanna do bad things with you_

I screech slightly and shake my hands in excitement. I grab the broom and dance around the room with it, careful not to knock over a table or a lamp. I peel off my shirt and thrust it to the ground. Logan's outside mowing the lawn, he'll never know that I danced around in my sports bra and jeans to this song while he was doing yard work.

I sweep some dust particles into the corner, singing along to the words as I went along. "I'm the kind to sit up in his room, heart sick an' eyes filled up with blue…"

I don't have a horrible voice. I was raised in the subtle town of Meridan, Mississippi and my family was one of those good Christian families that attended the church every Sunday at precisely eight o' clock. I remember it as good as it was just yesterday where Momma made me sing in the church choir.

I sang up front sometimes, but the spotlight was always on my good friend Poppy, a short African American girl with a gigantic, yet beautiful voice. My memory of Meridan drifted away as I had to fan myself again. Lawd, where was the fan?

Logan had the heat kicked up to probably a hundred degrees, and not to mention the added heat of the fire. I was sweating like a bun in the oven, burning up quickly. My jeans were encasing heat on my legs and I could already feel my skin becoming slick with sweat.

To hell with jeans, I replied and ripped them off of my legs. I had a pair of shorts upstairs that I could wear so I wasn't prancing around Logan's living room half naked. Just as I was about to race to the steps, the front door slammed open and Logan Howlett himself walked straight to the kitchen table. I froze in both fear and horror.

"Spent ten minutes lookin' for these buggers in the garage and here they are now…" He plucked the mower's keys off of the kitchen table, and turned to look at me. His eyes widened when he saw the condition I was in. "Fuck."

The music was blaring loudly in the background, and I tried to be a chameleon again, pressing myself into the wall and trying to blend in.

"Darlin'…" he whispers it so softly; my heart bursts into flames and a fire culminating in my lower region. I gulp and try to cover myself.

_I don't know what you've done to me_

_But I know this much is true_

_I wanna do bad things with you…_

Logan sets the keys back down on the table and slowly begins to walk forwards towards me. His eyes are blackened with lust and he puts his nose into the air and sniffs. I back up against the wall as he gets closer, closing my eyes tightly.

I clench my fists at my side and lick my dry lips. I can feel his hot breath on my skin, as his hands brace up against the wall, pinning me with his gaze and those big, muscular arms, skin tinted gold in the firelight. His eyes sparkle with mischief, and his nose skims against mine softly.

"Logan…" I whisper.

He chuckles softly. "Kid," he begins.

The music in the background blares loudly and says the words for him.

_I wanna do __**real **__bad things with you._

**0o0o0o0o0o**

**What's going to happen with Marie and Logan next? What kind of bad things will Logan do to her, if anything at all? Would you die to be in Marie's position right now, or would you be absolutely mortified? I'm not the kind of person that will hold stories hostage because of reviews (I would never deny a reader a story!) but I will admit that I do like them. They're like candy, and I would **_**never ever**_** stop loving them. **

**Thank you to all those who reviewed before. **_**Beth-Geek Chick, Killin-time, identityless, Roganette, I'm a Nerd and Proud, Kylie Ferrin, EndlessDeleneObsessedDesire, Guest, Bookworm22, EmilieCW-DXfan0119, Blab Labels, and Chante.**_** Keep it up, guys!**


	4. Black Panties, White Nights

**Author's Note: You know, I guess there's a good side to being half-dead during the week, because I have a lot of free-time on my hands. My whole family's got a stomach bug (apparently it's going around) and last night…was not my best night. But here's a chapter for you guys today! Thanks for all the reviews last time, too. You make me feel much better ;)**

**Thank you: Killin-time, idenityless, I'm a Nerd and Proud, Kylie Ferrin, Yatah9094, Guest 1, EmilieCW-DXfan0119, EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire (sorry I spelled your name wrong last time!), Roganette, Peyton Cummings, PatatoGirl, Lilabug, Blab Labels, Guest 2, Guest 3, The all mighty and powerfulM, austexfan, and rllance. 19 reviews is amazing! Thank you all my new reviewers, and my long-term ones. Keep up the spectacular work!**

**FYI: My Gambit looks like Taylor Kitsch like so played in the movie X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Not that I have anything against Gambit in the comics (he's hot too), but whenever I think of Remy LeBeau, I think Taylor Kitsch. Just a small for your information.**

**FYI2: I just read something online today that said that in the comics Wolverine and Rogue shared a **_**passionate**_** kiss because Wolverine admitted to her that he desired her in a romantic and sexual way and that he **_**always **_**had! OMG EFFING YES! Fuck yeah Rogue and Wolverine. Tell me if this isn't true before I get too excited, though. ;)**

**Song: The Reason by Hoobastank. (I feel like this song fits Logan perfectly!)**

I've found a reason for me

To change who I used to be

A reason to start over new

And the reason is you**  
**

**Chapter 4: Black Panties, White Nights**

"_What are you doing?" he asks me, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he leaned forward. His nose skims across my cheek and he inhales my scent. His eyes have a look of deranged lust in them. _

_I don't know what to say to that. I, myself, don't know what I was doing dancing round in the Wolverine's house all vulnerable while he was outside. Then he comes in seeing a willy-nilly prancing around in her skippies. I don't blame the guy for wanting some. But what I say surprises me._

"_I was overheated," I lie. "With the fire roaring and the heat…I just wasn't thinking. And I stripped."_

I lay in Logan's bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I'm half naked underneath and it's now cold in the cabin. Logan cranked down the heat and stuck me in his bedroom, putting on the fans he'd stored away for summertime.

"So yeh not overheated," he had told me in explanation for the fans. I'd nodded and thanked him.

I was so painfully aroused, but he acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary to be overheated. I wanted him to take me in his arms and shove his hot dog into my bun, but it was obvious that I'd ruined it by saying that I'd been too hot inside of the cabin.

I wanted to repeatedly punch myself. Logan comes in with a soft therapeutic ice pack and lays it over my forehead. "How ya feelin', darlin'? Still overheated?"

I shake my head and sit up. "No, I'm fahne now—"

With a firm hand, he pushes me back down. Looking down, I realize that I never did change into suitable clothes because Logan wouldn't let me out of the bed. _Maybe he doesn't want you to change, _I mull over the thought. It could be true. I mean, what if he wanted me like this? Or wanted me at all?

He places the ice pack on my forehead and sweeps tendrils of curly chestnut hair out of my eyes. "Lay down some more and then you can start cookin'."

I nod my head. "Well I'm fahne, so I guess I can get up to cook up some rabbit and squirrel stew." I kick off Logan's covers and scramble out of bed. I see the exit and I'm heading straight towards it like a freight train, but a muscular body stands in the way.

"Darlin' you can start later. I'm worried about'cha."

I groan and collapse against him. "C'mon Logan," I whine. He grunts in satisfaction and runs his hands down my back until he reaches my ass. My eyes widen, and I push into him a little harder. When he groans lustfully, I realize that I'm rubbing right up against his groin.

_No sudden movements, you'll scare off the Wolverine._

He rubs gently in a circular motion over my lacy black panties before bringing his hand down hard on my left cheek. I gasp and press into him again, right where he seems to want it. He backs up against the wall and my face squashes against his chest. "Ya like that?"

I moan as he squeezes my ass cheeks again before slapping down hard. I yelp and glare up at him. He grins as I try to pull away. He's too strong for me. His fingers dance around my milky white thighs and it sends heat straight to my needy center.

He lets me rest against him for a moment. "That teach ya not to lie, won't it?" I look up at him, puzzled. He chuckles and shakes his head. "Look atcha. I know ya lied, M'ree. So stop actin' so innocent. I know ya weren't overheated. It's fuckin' forty degrees outside and it was only eighty in here."

I pull away from him and step back a few steps. My backside still stings from the multiple blows that his hand gave me. He grins so widely that I think his face might split in half. "I'm…I'm not lyin', Logan."

He runs a hand through his hair and leans against the doorframe. "Drop it, kid. I can smell everything. 'Specially when yeh lyin'." Then he adds, "And what I was wondering the most out of anything is why you smelled so good. The smell took over yeh anxiousness about lyin'. Were ya wearin' a new perfume, kid?"

My eyes bulge so big that I come to the conclusion that, if they get any bigger, they'll surely fall straight out of my eye sockets. I am 105 percent sure that what he is smellin' sure as hell ain't my new perfume.

"What did it smell like?" I blurt. I have a perfume that I'd put on this morning, but it was that cheap stuff that didn't leave an aroma for long. It smells like berries, so if he says berries than we we're good.

"What did it smell like?" he repeats the question and licks his lips. It sends shocks of electricity surging through my body. "It smelled like _woman_."

_Holy Mother of Joseph. Hail Mary the virgin mother of holy freaking baby Jesus._

I struggle again and end up grinding my hips onto his cock. His eyes widen and he groans deeply in pleasure. His hold on me loosens and I find the right moment to escape from his lock-tight grip. He slumps against the wall and I scramble backwards before he can grab me again. I'm so aroused that I'm afraid I'll turn into a pile of melted woman. He stares at me, panting, that lustful look never leaving his primal eyes.

I walk past him with my head held high and try not to make eye contact with him. I'm not going to show him that I'm embarrassed at being so slutty and stimulated, even though I really am. I march straight up the stairs without a word in his regards. He snorts and makes his way to the refrigerator fetch the meat from earlier this morning.

"Hurry up and get your skinny ass down here, Marie." Logan calls from below in his growly voice. I huff at him in an _I'm-seriously-sort-of-pissed-off-at-you_ kind of way. I peel my lacy black bra and throw it down over the balcony at him.

He grunts when it lands on his head. He nearly chokes on his beer. "What the _hell _is this… oh fuck, darlin."

The way he says 'darlin' makes me want to melt into a heaping pile of lustful woman even more. He stands up from the couch and looks up at me from where I'm changing up in the balcony. I can tell that maybe he's had one too many drinks. I scowl and slip on my last article of clothing, charging downstairs and taking the bottle.

"Hey…hey! Kid, what the hell are you doing?" He comes after me, but I'm too quick. I dump the contents of the beer into the sink and toss the bottle into the trash. His mouth falls open in a longing sort of way at the loss of his precious Molson's.

"You've had one too many beers, Logan, and you're definitely acting like a bastard." This time it's his turn to huff at me in an_ I'm-seriously-sort-of-pissed-off-at-you kind of way_.

"That was my last beer, dammit!" he growls at me. I'm not scared of him though. I just put my hands on my hips and stare at him in a sassy way.

"Boo-hoo, Logan. Cry me a river." Then I add, "_Darlin'_ can take ya to the store later when she feels lahke it."

He scowls at me and shoves me a handful of bloody squirrel and rabbit carcass. I screech and throw them onto the table quickly. He grabs his cigar box and lights one, all the while chuckling softly as I freak out at the dead animal blood dripping on my hands.

I run to the sink and wash my hands, squealing in horror as I watch it run in red streaks down my skin. "You…you…ugh!" I'm so furious, I can't find my words. That was disgusting. "Apologize!"

"Boo hoo, Marie. Cry me a river," Then he adds. "_Wolverine_ can apologize later when he feels like it."

Goddammit, he took the words right out of my mouth and twisted them all ugly and used them against me. That conniving bastard. He's sexy as fuck, but he sure as hell is getting on my nerves. He begins to laugh as I get angrier and angrier.

I open a cabinet, ignoring as he smoked away behind me. I fill up the pot with water and set it on the stove, letting it turn gradually into a slow boil. I needed to make dinner tonight some time. And it was already five o' clock.

"Marie."

"What."

"You want me to cut up this meat for ya? So ya don't have to touch it?"

I turn a knob on the stove and my shoulders droop. "Is this your way of apologizing?" I ask him.

He gets up from his seat and leans on the countertop next to me. He looks at me and nods his head in affirmation. "Yep." He says it like I just asked him if he thought Scott was a dickhead.

I nod my head, a smile floating across my face. How is it that this man can so easily change my mind? A minute ago I wanted to stuff his cigar down his throat but now I wanted to stuff my tongue down it. I sigh in defeat. "I'll take it."

He laughs loudly, the sound of like music to my ears. He only ever laughs around me. He only ever shows his true colors around me. I love him for that very reason. He releases me and takes to the meat chopping, getting the cutting board and cleaning the carcasses up.

It had taken me some time before to look for a recipe with squirrel or rabbit. I'd looked through a few different cookbooks until I found a stew that could easily be made in a half hour or so. I figured that I could just substitute the beef in 'beef stew' with rabbit and squirrel meat. Would it taste so bad?

He's at the table, gutting the carcasses after he had skinned them earlier. I stand at the counter, stirring a pot filled with cooking vegetables. I grab a carrot and use my knife to chop it into small chunks and bits. He's at the table, slicing the animal meat into thin strips and then dicing it.

I look back at him, brow furrowed as he wipes some blood on the paper towel that sits beside him. He prods at the skinned squirrel on the cutting board before turning to me. "Darlin' can ya pass me a bigger knife? This small knife won't cut off the head."

I hold back vomit and hand a butcher's knife back to him. I turn back to chopping my carrot. I hear a loud _thwack_ and the cracking of tiny bones. I scoop the pieces of carrot up into my hands and toss them into the pot. I look into the boiling water.

Potatoes? Check.

Carrots? Check.

Beans? Check, check, check.

I stir my broth and the vegetables. I add some spices and a tad more salt to increase the flavor. I hear Logan getting up from the table. "I'm done," he announces and puts the uncooked meat next to me.

I glance at the ugly mangled mess of raw squirrel and rabbit meat before getting back to work. I'm determined to make this a great dinner for Logan, even though he didn't deserve one after spanking me and sassing me like that. "Thanks for takin' care of the dirty work, sugah."

He grunts his byline and stalks off towards the living room to click on the television.

0o0o0o0o

We're sitting in the dark, the only light being the fire. He's lit a few candles as he finishes up his fifth bowl of stew. Damn, the man can really eat. I'm only on my second bowl. I had to admit that I made a real mean stew tonight.

He looks up at me with his burning brown eyes and chews on the last piece of rabbit in his stew. "Y'know what I saw on the TV, kid?"

I lift my head up and stare at him. "What's that?" I ask.

"Snowstorm's comin'," he replies.

I try not to choke on my stew. "What? How many inches are we getting'?"

He stirs his stew a little. "8 to 10 inches of snow. We might be trapped here a little while."

I run a hand through my hair and sigh. "This…this is _not_ good, Logan. We gotta get back to the academy before it starts. I don't want to be trapped here during a storm!"

He grunts and his lips quirk up in a little cocky bastard smile. "You mean to say, you don't want me trapped 'ere wit me during a storm."

I frown at him. "That is not what I said, and you know that."

He dips his spoon back into the stew and slurps up a carrot. "Anyways, there ain't gon' be no leavin' anytime soon. The storm's s'posed to start t'night." I hear a loud whistling outside. It's the wind, already whipping around like the blizzard's already started.

I get up from the table and bring my empty bowl to the sink. "I really hate storms," I tell him. "I've always hated storms. Especially when I was a little girl in Meridan. I would crawl into my momma's bed and she'd comfort me."

I looked out the window. Behind me I hear Logan get up from the table and come over to where I'm standing. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. "Now I sure as hell ain't yer momma, but…I can comfort ya too."

That hits me somewhere hard. My heart pounds against my chest like a drum in a battle and I feel little butterflies tickling my skin. Goosebumps prick up all over my skin. I'm nervous and I'm positive that he can smell me. I step away from him cautiously, afraid that my mutation will come back. I found that, even after I could control my skin, it would still turn on unintentionally and automatically if I was scared, nervous or using self-defense.

I'm almost positive that what he's trying to tell me is: "_You can crawl into my bed and I'd be fine with that_."

"You still hungry, Logan?"

He shakes his head. I take his bowl and throw it in the sink. The bowl's been basically licked clean with the way it sparkles and shines for me. Logan pours the rest of the stew into a plastic Tupperware bowl and throws it into the fridge.

0o0o0o0o0o

Logan and I had been talking up a storm since dinner. He'd promised to take me one of the bars to see him do some cage-fighting after I'd begged him for at least an hour. He'd warned me that it was dangerous, but I didn't care. I still don't care.

It's about ten o' clock at night when I hear my cell phone ring. It's buzzing on the kitchen table and I scramble out of my seat. Logan watches me leave, sighing and collapsing against the pillows. I pick up the phone quickly, expecting it to be Jubilee. She's the only one that dares to call at these crazy times. "Hello?"

_Bonjour, chere._

It takes me a moment to register whose voice that was. I whisper, "Remy?" I was completely taken aback by this. I knew Remy cared about me, but I didn't expect him to call me while I was on my vacation. Well, more it was like I didn't really think he cared

_Oui, have you missed me, chere?_

I shrug my shoulders, even though I know that he can't see what I'm doing. "Sure, I guess so. I miss being bested at Go Fish."

He laughs over the other line. _Bon. I miss bestin' you at Go Fish as well, p'tite._

I shake my head in amusement. "It's late and I'm awful tired. Whaddya want, Rem?"

_Tell me how you are, p'tite. It's no fun at all without 'chu here to keep me company._

"Oh come on. I heard you were going out with Betsy."

_False, o'course, chose douce. It ain't called goin' out wit' someone if ya only have sex once. (sweet thing)_

I cringe. "Come on. That's…that's gross. She's basically the slut of the school. Betsy Braddock? You can do way, way, way better."

_Vous aves raison, p'tite. I can do better. How's about me and you and date night once ya finish ya little trip with the dog, eh? (You're right)_

"Who ya callin' a dog, Gumbo?" I hear Logan's voice echo from behind me. I had almost forgotten that the man had crazy amazing senses.

_Is dat Wolverine?_

"Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, sugah."

_You're there wit de Wolverine?_

He says it like no one's told him. "Sure am, Rems. This _is _Logan's cabin."

_Erm…are ya alright, p'tite? He's a feral, ain't dat right? You don' need Remy to come up der to rescue ya…_

Suddenly the phone is snatched out of my hand and lands in Logan's. I grapple with him to get it back, but his strength is relentless. "Yeah, we're _real_ good up here Gumbo," he growls. Then he looks at me and gives me his absolute sexiest smirk. "Marie's _safe_ in my arms and _warm_ and real comfortable. So there ain't gon' be any rescuin' tonight, bub. Ain't that right, darlin'?"

Then he holds the phone out to me. I gulp and nod my head. "Yeah."

Logan brings the phone back to his own ear and chuckles again. "Hear that? So I think ya should…" he trails off, his beautiful face twisting into a terrible scowl. "Alright, you listen up Gumbo! You better watch what you're sayin' before I drive my ass up there to fuck ya up real fuckin' bad."

I gasp and snatch the phone away from Logan, who might have crushed it if he held it any tighter. "Alright Remy, I gotta go." I watch as Logan turns away and stalks back into the living room. While he's not listening I add, "It's time for me to put the big bad Wolverine to bed."

Remy chuckles over the phone. _Alright, p'tite. You do that._

"What did you even say to him to make him so pissed like that?" I ask. "He was really steamin', sugah."

_Nuthin' much p'tite. Juste que je sais qu'il baise la cervelle et que j'esperais qu'il ne vous donne pas un animal fou maladie sexuellement transmissible. Oh! Et que je voulais ma part quant vous avez obtenu la maison de votre peu de vacances._

"Rems…what the hell?"

_Just a good night wish, Rogue._

"Oh, alright." I had no idea what he was saying, and it probably wasn't a good night wish, but I didn't feel like badgering the man right now. I had more important things to tend to. Like Logan. "Night, sugah."

_Baiser la cervelle, belle. Les baiser. Et bosse nuit a vous aussi._

I hang up on him and go into the other room to find Logan. He's sitting on the couch with his arm over his eyes. "I need a fuckin' beer."

He takes his arm off of his eyes and glares at me. I wince. "Sorry, sugah."

He gets up from his seat and heads into his bedroom. "I'm goin' to bed before I fuckin' pass out on the floor. Night, kid."

I nod my head and rub my hand through my hair. "Alright, night Logan."

0o0o0o0o

I filled up my cup of tea and sipped it, almost choking on it. Not because it was too hot or because it tasted like crap, because I heard his grunt echo from his bedroom. It was loud and throaty and enticed me more than a piece of my momma's double fudge chocolate cake.

I set down my tea and tip toe to the door the quietest that I possibly could. "Ahhh, fuck." My eyes widen and I lean my ear against the door. I can hear the sound of bare flesh against bare flesh.

Unless he's snuck a prostitute into his room, I know what he's doing in there. It both frightens me and arouses me at the same time. I can't believe that he's getting himself off, just behind that door.

_Behind that door. Just behind that door. Open it, Marie. Pounce on him and seduce him._

I push away the thoughts. His hand's going faster now, for the panting's speeding up and the rubbing sound of his hand going up on his flesh is getting louder.

"Fuck. Isn't wearing a bra…"

I sigh softly, pressing my cheek against the cold oak door.

"Eyes…pound into her pussy."

My fingers creep down towards my wet panties and sit still, waiting for him to dirty talk some more. _Behind that door. Just behind that door. Open it, Marie. Pounce on him and seduce him._ I wonder who he's talking about. I'm so aroused that I don't even care.

"Bounce those…pink nipples…fuck yeah."

My fingers begin to move, stimulating myself quickly. I stifle a moan by biting into my lip.

"Yes, c'mon. Fucking yes. Gonna …Marie!"

I gasp loudly and stumble backwards. Oh my god. He just came because of me. He was thinking of me! I was right, I was right all along.

As I'm traveling backwards, I stub my toe on a chair in the dark. I hiss and I hear something being knocked over in Logan's bedroom. My eyes widen and I scramble up the stairs, trying not to slip in my fuzzy pink socks. As soon as I'm fully up the stairs and into my bedroom, Logan's bedroom door bursts open and he follows my trail upstairs.

I'm afraid that he'll catch me and scold me for eavesdropping. Like a child, I scramble under the covers and pull them up to my chin. Do you know that feeling that you feel when someone's watching you? Well I have that right now. I feel like his eyes are burning into my soul. I close my eyes tightly as he comes to my bedside.

"Marie?"

I don't answer him. I want to persuade him over, make him believe that I actually am sleeping. He retreats a moment later to the steps. I count the slow, lingering steps that he takes to reach the bottom level of the cabin.

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, aaaaand twelve. _

"Hmm," I hear him saying. "Maybe I was just imagining things. Maybe she didn't come down here after all…"

0o0o0o0o0o

**Remy's French Translation (big paragraph): I just know that he fucks the brains out of you and I was hoping it doesn't give you some crazy animal sexually transmitted disease. Oh! And that I was wondering if I could have my turn when you got home from your little vacation.**

**Remy's Smaller Sentence: **_Baiser la cervelle, belle. Les baiser. Et bosse nuit a vous aussi. _**Translation: Fuck your brains out. Fuck'em. The whole night.**

**Thanks for reading! All those reviews last time were like pure gold :) And they'd make me feel better when I'm sick!**

**Courtney xx**


	5. The Fighter

**Author's Note: So sorry this has taken so long. My computer shut down and Microsoft Word deleted all of my files and I had to completely rewrite this chapter by memory. I had a total fit that it lost everything (a full chapter that I was ready to post), so I can't promise that this chapter will be as good as the original, but I tried to take my time and go through the pieces and put more detail in them so they won't be crappy. Your reassurance would be very nice :)**

**Thank you: Guest 1, EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire, EmilieCW-DXfan0119, Killin-time, Tagkeeper, identityless, Roganette, The all mighty and powerfulM, I'm a Nerd and Proud, Kylie Ferrin, AB Feta, austexfan, Bookworm22, Guest 2, Blab Labels, tanya2byour21, EllezBellz, RogueRunner and maji343 for reviewing. It means so much to me!**

**FYI: The bar fight scene does come from the first movie, when Logan and Marie first meet. I used some things from the movie, like quotes, so I don't own some of them. I'm just going to pretend that there wasn't a bar fight like the one I'm gonna put in this story, and it didn't happen when they first met.**

**Song: 99 Problems by Hugo (this has no meaning or signifigant meaning to Wolverine, I just thought it would go nicely as a background song in the bar! Because Wolverine does have 99 problems and a bitch **_**is**_** one. [Gah, Rogue's not a bitch though!] I just absolutely love that song, though.)**

**Chapter 5: The Fighter**

I watch him chew his bacon, his lips moving and tasting the meat. He hasn't said anything about last night so far, and the thought that he didn't know that I'd heard him jerking off was total bullshit. He wipes his mouth and looks at me.

My heart pounds inside of my chest. Visions of him moaning my name out as he touched himself flooded my mind and my southern region begins to get hotter yet. I'd made him breakfast this morning because I didn't want him burning eggs again or maybe even setting the house on fire.

I zero in on his tongue darting out to lick the grease off the piece of bacon before using his beautiful white teeth to tear it to shreds. He notices me staring and his lips quirk up slightly at the edges. He's obviously amused.

Something to talk about, something to talk about, need something to talk about…

I feel his thigh press up against mine and his foot slides between mine. His knee is level with my center and I feel my heartbeat speed faster, if it's even possible. My face burns bright as I take a timid bite of my toast. My eyes flash up at him and I notice his nostrils flaring as he inhales something he seemingly finds to be adorned with a delicious aroma. He growls.

My eyes widen like saucers and I clench my legs shut in realization. I turn my head away and pretend like I'm distracted with something outside. Then I see my conversation starter. It's fucking beautiful outside.

"So there was no snow last night," I point out, poking my eggs with my fork. A mischievous look crosses his face.

"I know," he says in his low baritone voice. "I sorta lied about when it would be coming."

"Why?" I ask, kinda pissed that he lied to me about the snow. He shrugs his shoulders and drinks another sip of his glass of milk. Milk was pretty much the first beverage, other than beer, that I'd seen him drink the whole time while we were up in the cabin.

"Didn't want ya to leave, I guess."

At this I soften instantly and dig my fork into the eggs, shoveling them into my mouth. "I'm not gonna leave ya, Logan," I tell him with a smile. "So I guess you're stuck with me, sugah."

He grins and runs a hand through his hair. "Listen kid," he strikes up a conversation and I'm eagerly listening. "Yeh said yeh wanted to see me fight one of these days, right?"

I nod my head vigorously and set down my fork. "Yeah. Why?"

"Well, my bud Stumpy called me up and scheduled me a cage fight at one of the local bars today. Wanted t'see if yeh could come, or if yeh wanted to."

I nod again. "I…Logan…when? 'Cause I gotta get myself ready. I mean, I don't want to go to a local bar wearing my pajamas."

"Yeh fine. It's not till later anyways, afta dinner."

0o0o0o0o0o

After I took my shower, I braided my hair and dressed in my typical Southern-belle look, but much less covered up. I had a baby blue blouse with a tiny white flower pattern, faded blue skinny jeans and comfortable brown combat boots.

It's only six o' clock but it's pitch black and the stars are riding high in the sky. He told me to not bother making dinner because the bar that we were going to had the best drinks and cheeseburgers around.

Once we arrive and pull into the parking lot, I push open Logan's truck door and step out the other side. He gets out and starts walking towards the bar in his badass stride, cigar in his mouth and his hair all slicked back and gelled nicely. Not to mention he had a little shaving session and his face was currently lacking stubble and a beard.

He looked nice. He looked tamed. Tamed for something that he was supposed to be untamed for.

Like a perfect gentleman, he holds the door for me as I walk into the bar. I crinkle my nose in disgust; the bar smells like smoke, alcohol and sex. It's loud, with people screaming and cheering inside of the dark building. Hardcore rock music's blaring loudly, with screaming guitars and crazy pitched vocals.

There's three types of men in this bar: fat rednecks, drunk husbands of rich nagging wives and the overall bad-boy Motorcycle gang group. And to go along with the men, there were three types of women in the bar: Fake boobs, fake butts, and fake everythings.

To the right there's the bar, the place where you go to eat and pick up some skanky bar fly to take home with you. And to the left, there's the Cage, where Logan's going to be fighting. Two men spar inside of the Cage, literally a fenced in area on an elevated platform with red mats to _cushion_ the fighters' falls.

Logan walks up beside me and winks at me. "To the back," he murmurs, then motions for me to follow him into his rooms. _The back_ is a stingy little hallway with crushed cigarettes on the floor and empty, broken beer and whisky bottles lying in the corners. At the end of the hallway, there's a small fat man pacing before a big brown door, checking his watch and scribbling things hastily on the paper attached to his clipboard.

"Stumpy!" Logan calls, waving his hand up to signal that he was here and ready to fight in the Cage. The man looks up and gives a little triumphant cheer.

"C'mon, big fella! Get your hairy ass in here and get ready to rumble. You're late, and the bids have already started. It's looking good tonight—the bids are mostly for the Destroyer, so it'll be a big shock when you beat his ass down. Gonna bring in the bucks tonight, bub!"

_So that's Stumpy,_ I think to myself. To me, he kind of looks like the cousin of Danny DeVito. He's half bald, with greasy brown hair only covering the sides of his head. He's got a tamed mustache and dark stubble on his chin. He leans against the wall and waits for Logan to come back.

When he spots me, his eyes narrow slightly before smiling widely. "So you're the Maria that Logan's been taking about, eh?"

"It's actually, Marie—"

"Lord, I didn't think Logan went for sweet southern-belles like you. You come from Mississippi, belle?" I nod my head and open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. "Lovely place, it is. I'm from the South myself! Born and raised in Tennessee."

"Your name's Stumpy, am I right?" I ask him. The man nods and shows me his yellow teeth.

"David," he begins, sticking out a chubby hand. I take it cautiously. I want to be polite, but I can't help gagging a little when I pull back and see my hands stained with an unknown substance. I back up and secretly wipe my hands on the wall. "You can call me David. Only the guys call me Stumpy."

I nod my head and smile prettily, trying to hide my disgust. Just then, the door bursts open and Logan's standing there in black sweatpants and a tight wife beater shirt. He's already sweating profusely, but it makes his skin look amazing in the dim light.

"Met your girlfriend here, bub." David points out. Logan looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "You really scored here with this little number."

I blush and try to explain to David. "We're not—"

"But anyways, we gotta get out there. Listen…! I can already hear them playing your song." David cuts me off again. I roll my eyes and lean against the wall.

Logan starts down the hallway to the Cage and I follow in his footsteps, hastily trying to keep up with him. David scurries along beside me, holding his clipboard in his chubby hands and looking beat as he tries to keep up.

He's clenching his hands, trying not to get to revved up and release his claws. I can see the veins beneath his skin popping out and the metallic glow of his adamantium claws beneath the surface, becoming more and more visible.

Once I finally catch up to him, I cling onto his arm and smile. "Be careful," I tell him. He's got a fierce scowl on his face, battle written in his eyes. He's ready. He rubs my head in a soothing way and tries to smile at me.

The crowd's screaming, some people are booing and some people are cheering for the Wolverine. He turns to me before descending into the crowds. "Do I get a good luck kiss?" he questions. The question takes me aback, but he seems really okay with it when he leans down so I can reach him.

I run my fingers along the smooth ridge of his jaw bone before pressing my lips softly to his cheek. He growls softly in approval before running out into the crowds. David bustles behind me, pushing random people out of the way so he can see his star client make his way up into the Cage.

I follow Logan's manager into the swarm of people until I reach the point where I can see him sort-of clearly. The Destroyer is a tall, redheaded man that is not at all attractive. He's prancing around the edge of the Cage, his fists clenching and unclenching as he prepares to 'take down' the Wolverine.

When Logan comes up against the Destroyer, I almost laugh. Logan's never been the tallest man, but when he's compared with the Destroyer he looks almost…puny. But with his adamantium laced bones, the Destroyer is definitely no match for Logan.

The redhead swings first and Logan ducks, missing the blow. The crowd screams. The Destroyer's swinging more and more, and Logan's backing up and dodging each one of them.

Finally, the Wolverine swings and lands a blow on the redheaded man's stomach. The Destroyer doubles over in pain and crashes against the walls of the Cage. He stalks off and lets the man recover in peace.

"_What's this? The Wolverine shows mercy?" _The man over the loud speakers says. The Destroyer spits out blood and wipes his hands on the mats. Logan's looking out at me and I smile at him.

Suddenly I see the Destroyer coming at Logan while his back is turned and his attention is on me. My face pales instantly and I shriek when I see the Destroyer knee Logan in the stomach. It knocks the wind out of him and he's on the floor.

The Destroyer takes it as an opportunity to take down the Wolverine. Logan's kneed in the stomach and then is sucker-punched right in the face. People are cheering at his defeat. I find myself disgusted.

The Destroyer grabs Logan under the arms and slams him against the Cage walls, the loud metal against metal sound echoing throughout the bar. He's taking more punches now, and I'm wondering if the bids on the Destroyer were actually right.

"_It looks like the Wolverine is going down tonight!" _The loudspeakers echo. More cheers and chanting.

After the Destroyer threw him against the opposite wall of the Cage, he slumps and tries to regain his composure. I feel tears sparkling in my eyes but I wipe them away as soon as I see Logan begin to stand up.

Redhead's standing in the middle of the Cage, taking in the glory and cheers because he probably thinks that he's knocked out the Wolverine and set a cage-fighting record. The Destroyer turns around right in time to see Logan smash his face in with an adamantium fist.

The crowd gasps and is instantly silent. The Destroyer bounces off of the Cage boundaries and comes back with his fists raised. Logan pushes away his hands and head-butts him, the sound making a large metal 'clank.'

I cheer, but the rest of the crowd's booing. The Destroyer's down on the ground, holding his head. Wolverine steps over him, ready to finish him off. He grabs the Destroyer by his shirt collar and slams him down hard on the Cage's mats.

Ten seconds pass and the Destroyer doesn't move. It was the perfect knockout, and it was so unexpected. People are throwing things (damn, they're disrespectful) and are cursing loudly.

Then the loudspeakers rage them on. _"Are we gonna let this man walk away with all of your bids and your money?"_

"No!"

"Hell no!"

"There's no fucking way!"

"_Then who's our next fighter? Who's gonna defeat the Wolverine and get our money back?"_

Several voices ring out from the crowds. "I'll fight him!" a burly man says. He looks like he's one of the bikers from the Biker Gang, a worthy opponent but a predicted loser nonetheless.

"Beer?" David asks me from the table behind me. I'm not a huge beer drinker (except beer floats are an exception) but I sit down next to Logan's manager anyways. He nods his head towards the caged animal. "He's amazing, isn't he?"

"He's definitely somethin'," I admit. "I never seen someone fight like that before." I open the Molson's and take a swig. It's bitter on my tongue.

David grunts. "You never saw your man fight before?" I blush and try to explain to the man that I'm not his girlfriend and that he's like, thirteen years older than me, but he doesn't listen. "Wolverine's practically rich with all these fights he keeps on winning. Damn stupid peoples' bids keep giving him all this cash. Cash, cash, cash, Maria!"

My name's not Maria, either.

"Moolah, or whatnot. Boy brings in money and it pisses people off because they like the other guys too, right? Logan's a natural born fighter and none of their favorite cage-fighters can beat his ass like they all want them to."

David waves over a waitress and the busty blonde prances over to the table eagerly, shoving her fake boobs in his face. "What can I get for ya, big daddy?" she asks him, clicking her fake white tipped nails on the wooden table.

"How about a few shots for me and Maria eh, sugar-tits?" David snickers. The girl giggles in her obnoxious, high-pitched laughter and jabs a finger in David's chest.

"Sure thing!" And then the waitress skips back to the bar to fetch the drinks.

"Monica," David tells me, giving me a lupine grin as he drums his chubby fingers on the wooden bar table. "A hundred a night."

I find myself cringing as the blonde comes back with the drinks. She whispers some more sensual things in David's ear when I'm not looking and lets him cop a feel. Nasty bitch.

"_It looks like the Wolverine is still the king of the Cage. Who's gonna be our savior? Who's gonna win our money back for us? You—you wanna come on in? Let's get ready to rumble, everybody. Here's our savior!"_

I look back at the Cage and see another opponent entering the cage with his monstrous ego and mentality that he could beat the Wolverine in hand to hand combat. The man spars with Logan for a few moments before throwing a few punches. He hits Logan, but doesn't seem to have effect on him.

But when Logan throws a punch, the man goes flying against the back of the Cage and slumps against the wall. He gets up speedily, but my man's too quick for him. One sucker-punch, and he's knocked out in under three seconds.

"_All my 10 years I been runnin' this place, I ain't never seen anything like this before! That was the fastest knockout I've ever seen!"_ The man over the loudspeakers says.

I feel my heart swell with pride at those words. Two staff members are seen dragging another unconscious man out of the Cage as the crowd unceremoniously boos and throws beer cans at the metal chained wall that was keeping Logan separated from the angry mob of bidders.

It seems like Logan's had enough for one round when he hops out of the Cage and makes his way over to David and me. The crowd cheers as they shove two more fighters into the Cage and start a new round of bidding.

I try to meet him halfway, but I'm shoved down to the ground by a man. "Move, bitch!" he spits. "Don't you have eyes?"

Logan sees what the other man has said and done to me and he's seemingly furious. He grabs the man by his shirt collar and shakes him like ragdoll. "You better fuckin' watch who yer talkin' to, bub."

The man scowls and yanks away from him, returning to walking back to wherever he was going before. Logan gives me his hand and I take it; he hoists me up like I'm the lightest thing in the world.

He guides me over to the table and sits me down beside him and David. "That's why yeh gotta be careful when yeh go to places like these. Fuckin' people have no respect." When they notice that the Wolverine has sat down and is ready to order, the slutty waitresses flock over and shove their fake womanly parts in his face. "Can I take your order, big Wolverine?" one says, sweeping her blonde highlighted hair over her shoulder.

Logan doesn't give them the satisfaction of a sexual-implied response. "You wanna cheeseburger, kid?" he asks me quietly. I nod my head; we hadn't eaten dinner yet, so I was still hungry. "Two cheeseburgers," he tells the waitresses.

They scurry away like mice, trying to see who could get to the burgers first. "I heard the burgers here were real good," I murmur.

He nods and brushes some cigarette ash off of my shirt. "Yeah," he says. "They really are. Y'know, yeh really look like yeh don't belong 'ere at all."

I look down at my outfit. "Why?"

"Yeh got yer southern-belle clothes on when the other women here hardly got anythin' on at all." Logan points out. He swipes a piece of my white bangs out of my eyes and tucks it behind my ear. His free hand fiddles with my braid playfully.

"I know," I murmur. "They're lookin' at me like I'm the slut, or somethin'." That response leaves Logan laughing. It's kind of funny, because I haven't seen him laugh in ages. Hell, no one at the academy has ever seen Logan laugh except me.

The women come back with our cheeseburgers. A bitchy redhead throws my cheeseburger at me while the others set the cheeseburger before Logan like it's gold and he's the king that asked for it.

In a way, he is the king. King of the Cage, more specifically. I hiss at the waitress when a bit of cheese splatters on my shirt due to her carelessness with my plate. "Oh, it's just a little bit of cheese," the woman begins in her annoying tone of voice. "Don't be such a big baby."

Logan whips his head towards us and growls at the woman, causing the redhead to squeal and learn her place again. "Sorry, Wolvie. Maybe I can make it up to you later, huh? No fees this time."

He makes a face and shakes his head abruptly. "Go," he says sternly and the waitresses frown and pout as they retreat. I stare down at my cheeseburger. So he's slept with her, too? God, why did he have to dip his dick into anything that wore a skirt and had legs?

"Sorry," he mumbles softly. "I didn't mean—"

I shake my head and cease his chatter. "I really…don't care."

He chews his lip before picking up his giant, overly cheesy cheeseburger and taking a huge bite. He groans because it apparently tastes 'real fuckin good', and I decide to take a bite of mine. He's right.

I devour my burger, but he's faster and bigger than I am. I hadn't noticed that the fights had stopped and people started filing out while I was so distracted with my cheeseburger and Logan.

David comes up to Logan and me and hands him a wad of cash. "The bids," he starts. "There's about six hundred here. Way to go, Wolverine! That's my star client."

He's got the same blonde wrapped around his arm, the same waitress that served us before. _Monica. _I cringe. He must be taking her home for some fun.

"Nice," Logan murmurs, flicking through the dollar bills. "Thanks Stumpy."

"No problem, wolf-man," he says, showing those yellow teeth again. "Say bye to Mr. Howlett, sugar-tits."

The blonde waves and laughs drunkenly. "Bah, Mista Howlett." She's a southerner like me, her accent really coming out when she's drunk. I guess the same goes for me. The drunker I am, the more southern I become. "Yah did real nice faghtin' and such."

David turns and leaves with Monica before Logan can strike up a conversation. There's mostly no one around, except for the bartender, a few waitresses, and a few drunk bastards that haven't hauled their asses out of the bar yet.

I wipe my mouth on a napkin and look over at Logan. He's slipping on his coat and pushing his chair into the table. "You ready, kid?"

I nod my head. I'm a little upset that he's taken to calling me kid again, because I was really enjoying the 'darlin' that he'd adopted. He takes out a cigar and lights it with his lighter before we can leave.

Out of the corner of my eye I see two men coming towards us. I recognize one of the men as one of the fighters that dared go up against the Wolverine. The burly man taps Logan on the shoulder.

He looks over his shoulder at the two men in an sullen sort of manner. He growls at them, in a 'what-the-fuck-do-you-want' sort of way.

"You owe me some money," the first man says. His friend tugs at his arm, annoyed that his friend was trying to confront the Wolverine.

"C'mon man, don't do this." The second one says. The first man holds his hand up to cease his buddy's talking.

"No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it," he whispers. "The Destroyer beat your ass down and you don't even have a bloody nose or any bruises. How the hell can a man be torn apart and still be fine?"

The second man uses his persuasion again. "Mike, come on. It's not gonna be worth it if you get your own ass beat by the Wolverine by questioning him."

Logan doesn't say anything. I'm frozen in my place, unsure of what the two men were going to do. Unsure of what Logan was going to do to the two men as well.

"I know what you are," the man whispers.

Logan doesn't turn around. "You lost your money," he growls it so ferociously that it sends a chill through my bones. "You get the hell outta here before you lose somethin' else."

"I want my fuckin' money." The first man says. Then he adds, "_Dirty mutant."_

Logan's trying hard to keep his cool, but I know that he's struggling. "Listen up, bub. I ain't gonna say it again. You'd better fuckin' watch yourself—"

It all happened so quickly. The man fought off his friend and pulled out his gun, firing a shot into Logan's back. I scream as he collapses to the floor. People are crowding around, pushing the man away from us.

Tears sparkle in my eyes, but Logan groans loudly and stands up with my help. People around us gasp. He takes me and pushes me behind him, protecting me. The bullet's still in his back, but it's not hurting him anymore.

He unsheathes his claws and looks around for the man that shot him. Everyone gasps. The bartender loads his rifle and points it at Logan, then at me. Logan's eyes widen and he pushes me back behind him. "Hurt her, an' yeh got a real fuckin' problem, bub!"

"Get out," the bartender says. "Get out or I'll shoot the both of you. Mutants are not welcome in my bar."

My heart's pounding and my face is pale. I feel like I'm almost going to be sick. I clutch at Logan's jacket; I'm deathly afraid of what these normal people will do to us. He wraps an arm around me and ushers me out the door, the claws on his left hand still pointing at the crowd of frightened people.

0o0o0o0o0o

"That's why yeh don't come to bars with me. Happens most of the time when I go," he murmurs. I take a look at his back. He's taken his shirt off and my fingers graze the hole where the bullet went in. "I can't heal properly unless the bullet's completely out. And I can't reach behind my back like that."

I run my fingers around the wound, watching as he inhaled and shivered beneath my touch. "I'm not hurtin' ya, am I?" I start to panic, thinking that my skin's turned on without me knowing.

"Hell no. Can't feel it anymore."

My hands are shaking slightly. "What…what do I use to get the bullet out?" He hands me a pair of tweezers. I try not to get too queasy while I'm looking at it. I steady the tweezers on the bullet and tug slightly. He growls, but doesn't move.

"Did it hurt?" I ask him. "Y'know, when the bullet went in."

"Like I was burning alive for a few moments," he answers me gruffly, gripping the side of the couch as I work the bullet out of his skin. "But then the pain died down a little, and that was when I got up."

I shake my head and sigh. "I feel horrible. I should have seen that he had the gun—I was starin' at 'im the whole time and I didn't say a thing!"

With a sharp pull, I tug the bullet free of his skin and drop it into the waste bin. His skin knits together before my eyes and he flexes, making sure that he's properly healed before he gets up to walk around.

"Darlin'," he begins, pushing me back against the couch pillows. I'm cornered, and he's hovering over me. My eyes grow large as he runs a hand over my hair. "There wasn't a thing you could have done. An' I'm glad that ya didn't do nothin'…'cause I dunno what woulda happened if ya woulda intervened. God knows what I'd do if anythin' ever happened to you."

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down on top of me. I can tell it surprises him at first because he struggles slightly, but eventually relaxes. "Thanks. For protectin' me."

He pulls his head from where it was nestled into my neck and smiles softly. "I'd do anythin' for ya. I dunno why…but I've always felt responsible for ya. And that's the way that it'll always be."

The cabin's relatively dark due to the only light source being the fireplace. We'd gotten home late to begin with. I suspect it's about eleven o' clock. My lips are lingering inches away from his and I feel my heart pound with anticipation.

His head ducks and I close my eyes, thinking he's going to kiss me. But he buries his nose in my neck and presses a soft kiss to my collarbone. He does kiss me, but it's not the way I want to be kissed. "Alright, darlin'. Think I'm gonna go to bed now." He rolls off of me and makes his way to his bed.

I stare at him as he walks away. For some reason, I feel like I want to cry. I know he's holding back. He's a fighter, that's just who he is. He fights in the Cage, he fights his inner self (the Wolverine), he fights pain, and most of all, he fights his damn feelings. Hell, I could see it in his eyes. But I'm just the 'kid' and that's all I ever will be to him. I lick my lips and get up from the couch.

I should go to bed as well.

0o0o0o0o0o

I grab a teacup from the cabinet and fill it up with hot water. Then I grab my green tea package and sprinkle some cinnamon and honey into it. My tea combination is all my own creation, or at least I like to think it is.

I sip it and feel the warm liquid run down my throat. It's two o' clock in the morning and I can't sleep. The snowstorm's already started early. Logan's predictions were wrong. The wind howls outside and the lamp beside my bed's flickering on and off. I've been trying to finish up Pride and Prejudice but the flickering lamp really was distracting me. I've been wondering if the power would go out.

I turn around and nearly spill my tea when I see him standing in the doorway, just staring at me. "Jesus!" I squeak, placing my hand over my heart. He runs a hand through his hair and looks me up and down.

I'm not my best dressed, but I don't look horrible. At least I'd like to think that I don't look horrible. My hair's up in a messy bun and I'm wearing a white camisole that matches with my baggy black and white striped pajama pants.

"Can't you sleep either?" he asks me in a groggy voice, his eyes adjusting to the light of the fireplace. I shake my head and chew my lip nervously. He stalks forwards and sits at the table in front of me.

I set my cup down after I take another sip. "No. You want a cup of tea?"

He nods his head. "Sure. Don't think it would be a good idea to have a beer at this time of night, would it?"

I shake my head and smile timidly. "No, no beers for you at two o' clock in the morning." I fetch another teacup and fill it to the brim with hot water. Then I take out the tea box that I'd brought and rummage through it. "What kind of tea do ya want? I got peach, chamomile, blueberry-pomegranate, green—"

"Whatever tastes the best will do just fine," he murmurs.

"I think you should try peach. Peach…that one's good." He nods in approval and I dip the tea bag into the cup. Once there's enough flavoring in the tea, I put some honey in it and a bit of cinnamon to spice things up.

I slide it across the table to him and he takes it and downs half the thing in five seconds. "S'good. I should make a habit of drinkin' other things 'sides beer."

I sit down in front of him and sip my own tea. "Tea happens to be one of my favorite drinks," I murmur. "I drink it whenever I get up in the middle of the night and I can't sleep. Tonight's one of those nights, I guess."

He looks out the window and sips down more of his tea. "Well," he begins. "It looks like we're gonna be snowed in a lot sooner than we thought, darlin'."

I see the snow sticking to the windowpane and hear the wind hissing outside. I lift the cup to my lips and let the sweet beverage slide down my throat. There's another sip left, and then I'm done with my tea.

He's already finished and is up, taking his cup to the sink. He stands there for a second, watching as the snow fell like a thick white blanket over the grass and trees. "It's kinda pretty…the snow. Just the look of it, though. It's usually brutal and miserable up here."

I sip down the last of my tea and run a hand through my hair. "I never really liked the cold. When I was little, I used to be terrified of storms, 'specially snowstorms 'cause they'd make the power go out. But I think I already told you that."

He's lingering by his room again, gazing into the darkness. "I'm not yer momma, but I can comfort ya just as well. But I think I already told _you_ that, too." My face turns bright red. He turns his head to the side and gazes at me through his peripherals. "So, on that subject…you wanna come, er, sleep with me?"

I never thought I'd hear that sentence come out of Logan's mouth when he was with me. I join him and grab his arm. "Logan, I…"

He jumps slightly and pulls out of my grasp, using his free hand to push back his hair. "Jesus, Marie. I ain't gonna do nothin' sexual, I promise."

"I _know_," I roll my eyes at him, even though that's what I want. He thinks I'm paranoid about him feeling me up in bed when that's what I've got my heart set on. Silly man. "And this is me acceptin' your offer."

Logan clears his throat and walks into the dark. I follow him, trying not to trip over anything and make a complete fool out of myself. He pulls back the covers for me and I slide into the bed beside him. It's so warm compared to mine and I feel _so comfortable_ just lying next to him like this.

"Night, darlin'." He whispers softly, his voice strained for some unknown reason.

I find him in the dark and snuggle my head against his shoulder. He inhales sharply, but he doesn't move away. Taking it a step further, I wrap my arms around his huge, muscled bicep. "Night, Logan." _I love you_, I silently add in my head.

**Please review! This was an extra-long chapter for you guys since it took so long, and I'm ever so sorry. So you can curse my laptop for deleting my files. I loved all the new reviewers last time, so keep up the beautiful work.**

**Courtney xx**


	6. Taking Bits of James Logan Howlett

**Author's Note: Thanks to all those who reviewed, favorite, and followed. Here's another chapter for you all, hope you enjoy!**

**Thank you: JaynaLeeTiejte, windsweptrose, Jinx of the 2nd Law, EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire, maji343, Killin-time, identityless, Roganette, The all mighty and powerfulM, Bookworm22, I'm a Nerd and Proud, Kylie Ferrin, Blab Labels, tanya2byour21, and Guest 1.**

**Song: **Flightless Bird American Mouth by Iron and Wine** (this is an effing beautiful song, you guys! But I also recommend listening to to MsHarper15's harp cover of it on YouTube.)**

**Chapter 6: Taking Bits of James Logan Howlett**

I wake in an empty bed—Logan's empty bed. I look around and stretch my arms out wide. The rest of the cabin's oddly quiet. I begin to wonder what's going on out there. I quickly slip out of his bed and rush out into the kitchen.

It's still and terribly quiet. There's a note on the table and there's a piece of toast lying on a plate next to it. I pick up the note and read it.

_Kid,_

_Went out to check the traps. I should be back by the time you wake up—if I'm not, then you're a damn early riser. Put some toast in the toaster for you since it's the only thing I can make without burning the fucking house down._

_Logan_

I smile and set down the note. I quickly eat the toast before deciding that I'd take a nice, hot shower while he was gone. That way I won't do something humiliating to myself like walking out of the show and him seeing me naked.

_Him seeing me naked._ Holy shit, I would probably die of embarrassment.

"So that's why it's best to shower while he's not here," I say to myself. I grab my clothes from upstairs and head into the bathroom. The shower's standing in the corner and outside the window I see the snow lying on top of the ground thickly. I have my fluffy white towel sitting on the towel hook by the shower curtain and my pink loofah hanging on the shower handle.

I start up the water and strip my clothes off. I stick my hand in the water and feel the heated water slide over my skin. I slide back the shower curtain and step into the little stall, feeling the hot water soothe my chilled skin.

I grab my bottle of body wash and squeeze some of the pink soap onto the loofah, rubbing it in circles across my skin. The sweet smelling bubbles roll off of me as the water washes away all. I push back my hair, letting it become wet. Leaning against the side of the shower, I let the warm water soothe me. My eyes slowly drift shut.

"_I'm thinkin' that…I might love yeh."_ _Logan whispers to me. I hear his belt buckle become undone from the other side of the shower curtain. Clothing hits the floor and the shower curtain's yanked open. I lean against the slippery shower wall and stare at his naked body in amazement._

_His muscles ripple as he stalks forwards to me. "I want you," he tells me. "And I know you want me back, baby." He braces his arms on either side of my head and nuzzles my nose with his. "So say it." My heart's pounding and my chest's heaving with each rugged breath I take in. He's waiting for me to say something now, but I'm too stunned to even reply at all. _

_He growls at me and yanks my hips forwards, making me gasp and fall into his arms. Logan's mouth connects with my neck and he squeezes my breasts with his free hand. My legs instantly come up and wrap around his waist and he thrusts into me. "I want you…!" I moan loudly._

The front door slams shut, breaking me out of my pleasurable trance. I gasp out in shock and jump a little, the heel of my right foot slipping in a patch of soap that had dribbled onto the floor.

Down goes the poisonous skinned Rogue.

I hear a snap and my mouth opens, letting loose a horrible shriek that could probably curdle milk. It scares the shit out of Logan, considering I hear something shatter and heavy footsteps bound towards the bathroom

This searing pain in my left leg's almost unbearable. I can't move it, and when I try to, a sob emits from my mouth. "Marie!" he cries out. The lock is jiggling and I hear his breath coming heavily. "Marie, open the door!"

My leg looks deformed almost, and my eyes grow foggy. There's blood and bruising and my world is getting blurry. "I can't," I choke out. The water's splashing on my thighs. My hands grasp a the soap ledge and I try to heave myself up.

Bad idea.

Bad fucking idea, Marie.

My fingers slip from the platform and I land back on my leg, causing me to scream again. His fist comes down hard on the door. "Marie!" he begs me.

Tears pour down my face as I try to push away the pain. But there's not enough of Logan's healing left to do the trick. God, it hurts so bad. I think I've broken it. "It hurts!" I yell to him. "My leg, oh God, it really does."

My hands are shaking and I'm choking back another scream as a wave of sheer pain ripples through my body. I hear a loud _crack_ and the shower curtain's ripped away from me. He shuts off the shower so it's not pouring in my face. My face turns bright red and more tears stream down my cheeks.

Not only is the pain horrid, but he's seeing me stark naked and bloody as well. "Darlin'," he groans sympathetically. "What the hell did ya do?" My arms wrap around my chest as he bends down and scoops me up into his arms.

I shriek as my leg dangles over the side of his arms. He looks pained and awful sorry about what happened to me. Gently, he lays my crippled, naked body on the couch to examine my wound. His fingers slide over my skin and I cry out in shock and pain, my fingernails digging into the couch.

"Shit," he murmurs, running his hands through his hair and gripping the follicles tightly. "Baby, I think it's broken."

I whimper and my hand reaches out for him. He holds my hand and kisses my fingers. "Hospital," I tell him. He shakes his head. It confuses me and only makes me angry. Why the hell won't he take me to the hospital?

"That's hours away! You'll be in so much damn pain that you'll be wanting to just pass out an' fall unconscious." Logan tells me. I bite my lip so hard that I draw blood. Dammit, I'm crying again. "So take it."

I stare at him, my eyes widened. More tears bubble up in my eyes and I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut as I hold his hand tightly. "No! You'll die!"

His face reddens. "Ain't nothin' that can kill my ass. So goddammit, take it!" He shakes my hand so hard that my mutation flickers on in defense. I'm sobbing so hard that I can't even see when his veins turn black and his eyes grow so wide that they could fall out if they grew any larger.

He's choking, gasping for air. My skin's knitting back together before my eyes and I hear a _pop_. That's when I know that I'm fully healed. And that he's healed me perfectly. "Let go, Marie." I tell myself. I tug away my hand, but his comes with it. I can't let go. I can't. "I'm killing him…I'm killing him! No, no, no, I'm killing him!"

I wrench myself away from him and he collapses to the floor, knocked out cold. Wolverine's voices and thoughts and psyches flood my mind. Memories, healing abilities, feral traits and lastly, the bone claws.

I stare blankly at the man that had just healed my broken ass leg and a lone tear escapes my cheek. My leg's perfectly fine now. I've healed perfectly, like my leg had never been broken at all. I lick my lips and grab Logan's arm, hauling him up. The color in his body was starting to fade back as his healing factor kicked in.

I heave his heavy body onto the couch. He's cold, so terribly cold. I took away his heat, and it doesn't help that it's fucking below zero outside. I quickly tear off his t-shirt and slide it off of him. His pants come off too. He's stripped like I am.

I read in a book once that two naked bodies generate heat faster than two bodies fully clothed. I make sure the fireplace has enough heat and check that my mutation's fully under control before I slide against his body with mine, trying to put some of my heat into the man. Thanks to absorbing some of Logan, my body heat soars a little bit higher and I can warm him up faster.

My hands rub up and down his muscled arms quickly, trying to create friction and thus generate more heat. "C'mon, Logan." I whisper. His healing factor is quickly kicking in, as I notice that he's becoming warmer and warmer against me. Almost…hot to the touch. That's when I feel his erection press up against my backside.

I quickly roll off of him and crouch into a ball as he sits up and shakes his head like a dog that just got smacked in the face. "Aw, my fuckin' head…" He rubs his temples, not seeing me at first. Then he looks up at the wall, as if realizing that I was still there. "Marie. Shit, Marie?"

His head snaps towards me and my lips tremble as his eyes darken. He scrambles off of the couch clad in only his boxers and rushes to me. He grabs his shirt from the couch as if he doesn't notice it's not on him anymore and urges me to put it on. Logan looks away as I slip it over my head. It's long enough that it reaches to middles of my thighs.

"Thank you," I whisper to him. He looks up at me and grabs my calf with his hand.

He's rubbing my skin soothingly now. "Your leg…is it fully healed now?" he asks me. I stand up and try walking around the room. There's still a dull ache but it's a million times better than it was before.

I nod my head and smile at him. "Thank you so much!" I repeat, rushing to him and wrapping my arms around his neck. It takes him aback and I, not realizing that he's still very weak due to the significant amount of his mutation that I borrowed, force him backwards onto the wooden floor. He grunts and his bulge slightly in both pain…and something else.

_**Jesus, baby. Don't ya know what yer doing to us?**_

The voice comes as a shock to me, and it's something that I wasn't expecting. Sure, I hear the voices of people that I absorb sometimes, but they're never as loud and as clear as this one. Logan's staring at me awkwardly.

_**Ya little vixen. Sittin' on top of the human with no panties on.**_

_Who are you? _I ask the voice in my head. I duck my own head down and bury it in the crook of Logan's neck. His hands come up to grip my waist. I roll off of him and help him stand up.

"Sit on the couch and I'll get ya back to health," I whisper. He groans as he's getting up but lumbers over to the couch the same.

_**Stupid fuckin' human. Should stuck our dick into 'er when she was on top of us, all hot 'n needy.**_

My eyes widen and I rush to the bathroom to slip on panties, a bra, and my black yoga pants. Then I notice the pieces of the bathroom door that I'd stepped over. God, he must have broken down the door to get to me. I shake off the thought for a moment and focus my attention on the voice in my head.

_Logan, is that you?_

_**No, baby. It's Wolverine.**_

_Aren't y'all the same people?_

There's a ridiculing snort. _**Hell no. He's the pussy, and I'm the man.**_

_I heard what you said earlier. Logan wants me? Like…sexually?_

_**Bastard denies it, and I ain't buyin' it. But **_**I **_**want you, baby girl. Real fuckin' bad. So to hell with what the human wants.**_

I look back to Logan, sitting on the couch with a pillow under his head. He must have got up while I was changing and put on his own pants. I don't bother to take off Logan's shirt and give it back because it's comfortable and it has his scent on it.

_**Jesus, yes. Wear our scent. Let everyone else know that you're our—**_

The voice trails off instantly and I hear another, smaller psyche in my head telling Wolverine to 'shut the fuck up, she can hear you now!'

I ignore them both and go to the kitchen. "Want a sandwich, Logan?" I ask him. I hear a soft _hell yeah_ echoing from the living room and I smile. I get out some lunchmeat and cheese as well as bread and mayonnaise.

"You don't have icepacks," I comment.

"Nope. Usually don't need 'em, that's why."

I grab a bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer and walk over to where he's lying limply on the couch. "Yeah well usually you don't lose your mutation saving some stupid bitch's ass so…" I whisper.

"I tol' ya I'd do anythin' for ya," he murmurs. "The healing factor's slowly coming back, I can feel it."

He doesn't see me when I come up behind him and put the bag on his forehead. "The fuck?" he whispers. "Marie!"

I'm already back in the kitchen, giggling like a giddy school girl. "I think it's frozen peas," I laugh softly. I slap some mayonnaise onto the slices of bread, then layer on the ham lunchmeat and cheese. I put the two slices of bread together and—voila—the southern-belle specialty sandwich.

I come back with the sandwich and he eagerly stuffs it into his mouth, eager to get some protein and strength back into his body that looks to beautiful muscular and toned to be weak.

_**S'good, baby girl. Make us another.**_

I really like this 'baby girl' nickname. Even though I'm a legal adult, I'd never been called that specific name in terms of endearment, but I find that I'm really liking it.

_Say please!_

_**Saying please is for pussies. Wolverine doesn't beg.**_

_Then no sandwich._

There's a silence in my head as Logan shifts the peas on his forehead. "Can I have another sandwich, please?" he asks me, his eyes turning from his normal hazel to a darker shade of brown.

_Not fair, Wolverine. I want __**you**__ to say it._

His hand grips my arm tightly and he presses his lips to my skin. I shake my head. The dark color fades from his eyes and the normal hazel color returns. He rubs his temples and growls, shaking off the after-effect of Wolverine.

_**Fuck. I'm not a pussy.**_

_Never said you were._

_**Please.**_

The Wolverine grits it out and I smile down at Logan, who has no idea what the hell's going on. "Gonna make you another sandwich," I whisper.

He grunts in approval. "Thanks baby-er, I mean Marie."

"You can call me that," I tell him.

There's a silence for a few moments and I think that it's his way of saying _no_ to that option. I lay the bread out and sloppily lay down some more mayonnaise and lunchmeat. I slip a slice of cheese or two in the sandwich and put the slices of bread together. Then I take it to him. He grins and hands me the bag of peas.

"Fuck these bumpy ass frozen peas. Don't want 'em on my head." Logan grumbles, throwing them on the floor.

"You feeling better?"

"No."

I pick up the peas and lay them back on his forehead. "Then peas it is, Mr. Howlett."

_**Fuck, it's sexy when you take charge, baby girl.**_

I blush and return to the kitchen, putting away my items and putting dirty silverware and dishes into the sink to be washed (by me of course. Logan doesn't do shit).

0o0o0o0o0o

"_ROGUEY! I haven't talked to you in like, effing ages! Where have you been chica? Well, actually, don't answer that. I know where you've been. What I mean to ask is, what's popping?" _Jubilee screams.

"Well, this morning I slipped in the shower and broke my leg."

"_Oh my freaking deity! What…are you in the hospital, or something? 'Cause you gotta tell me which one so I can tell the whole mansion and we can all drive up for a visit."_

"No, I'm not at a hospital…so that won't be necessary. And don't you dare tell the whole mansion!" I screech. The last thing I need is _more_ attention on me.

"_What do you mean you're not at a hospital? This is a very serious medical condition! How are you not freakin' screaming your head off right now? …Are you on drugs?"_

"God, no. Logan healed me. He broke down the door while I was in the shower and carried me out to the living room. My mutation kicked on…and I pretty much drained him."

"_Jesus. Is Wolvie okay?"_

I nod my head, even though she can't see what I'm doing over the phone. "Yeah, he's as good as gold."

There's a silence over the phone and then soft giggling. "_That means…he saw you naked. He saw you naked, right?"_

"Yeah, but I don't see how that has anything to do with me having a broken leg." I point out with a frown. "He doesn't care that I was naked."

"_Oh-ho-ho, dear. You ask him that, and I'm sure he'll say otherwise. Men have serious sexual fantasies about that shit, you know."_

"Logan was too focused on getting me back to health."

"_Sure…he's looking at your broken leg while you're wet and naked in his arms and wriggling up against him. Men are perverts like that."_

"Nuh-uh."

"_Yeah-huh."_

0o0o0o0o

"I'm…I'm, uh, really sorry tha'cha had to see me naked." I blurt. He chokes on his beer, his eyes bulging. I chew my lip as he coughs and slams his chest with his fist.

"Marie, the fuck ya talkin' about?" he asks, his eyes wild with both confusion and entertainment.

I squeeze my fingers tightly and chew my lip harder. "I mean, I know it wasn't a pretty sight…to…to see me naked. I hate when people see me naked and I'm awful sorry you had to."

He bursts out laughing, setting down his beer. He gives me a funny look and it makes me smile and blush against my will. "Yer kiddin' me, right?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm being serious." He laughs again, leaning back in his seat. "S'not funny, Logan. I'm serious!"

He sobers up a little, grin never leaving his face. "You shouldn't be ashamed of yer body. It's natural, an' I seen many more women 'fore you, so I'm pretty familiar with female anatomy."

My face brightens. "Sorry. It's just that…besides being in horrible pain, I was darn embarrassed."

He seems more understanding. "What, you a virgin or somethin'?" I shake my head. Logan' face becomes shady and he beings to growl ferociously.

_**Who the fuck would touch you? I'm going to kill those fuckers. Death would be a mercy to 'em if I ever got my hands on 'em!**_

"Was…was it Bobby?" he asks me.

I shake my head. "Someone from college I went out with for a few months," I reply. "But never with Bobby. Once I could control my mutation, it was already too late. I broke up with him because Bobby and Kitty would always go to the movie theater with each other."

Logan's listening, but Wolverine glistens in his eyes. "You broke up with him because he used to take Kitty to the movie theater?"

I nod in affirmation. "Yeah. Every Saturday night."

"That's a little bit crazy."

I shake my head. "No, it's not. Because Remy and Betsy walked into the movie theater to see The Heat and they were pleased because the theater was empty. Boy, were they in for a surprise when they realized that on the floor in the very front row was Bobby fucking Kitty like a stallion, eating popcorn offa her boobs."

Logan grimaced. "Jesus, kid. I'm sorry. I didn't know that the Ice Prick did that to you." He runs a hand through his hair and grabs his Molson's. "Thought he was a good kid at first. Thought he'd treat you good, real good."

"There's a lotta things ya missed when you were out runnin'. My birthdays, my heartbreaks, times when I really needed someone to lean on, and nobody was there…and you know what the funny thing is?"

"What?" he asks, intrigued by my story.

"Bobby called me a slut. Can you believe it? He, of all people, would dare call me a slut." I grumble and shake my head. "He caught me kissin' Scott at the Christmas party and had the nerve to call me a whore and a slut."

_**You kissed Scooter?!**_

"Scott's a dick. Why would ya kiss him?"

I roll my eyes and heave a sigh. "I was drunk and he was complementin' me and tellin' me how important I was to him. Didn't mean nothin' though."

"What did ya do to Bobby?"

I laugh in memorial. "I slapped him."

He raises an eyebrow. "You slapped him?"

I nod my head slowly and lick my lips. "Yup. Slapped him so hard that he was in a coma for two months. But I got his psyche. I got his memories, and they were so hurtful. He told Kitty that he hated me. He told Kitty that he thought I was just playing him and that's why I wouldn't have sex with him."

Logan's growling now, the hand around his Molson's threatening to break the bottle open and spill its contents. "That motherfucker."

"And the dreams and memories…oh!" I gasp. "Where do I begin? There were some of me, him takin' me forcefully, him havin' Kitty in my bed when she was my roommate…it was horrible. That's the downside to having this damned mutation. You see and feel everything that you're not supposed to feel."

He clears his throat. "Do you get mine?"

"Yeah." I push out my bone claws. I hiss when it breaks the skin between my knuckles, but it's not excruciating. His eyes widen and he pushes away from the table in alarm.

"Kid…Marie…what?"

I giggle slightly and pop the claws on my other hand too. "I absorbed a lotta you this mornin', sugah. These babies are pretty damn cool."

He looks at me with a certain sort of adoration in his eyes. "You got a part of me, darlin'."

The bone claws slide back into my skin. "Yeah, I guess I do. I'm takin' bits of James Logan Howlett. I saw your memories. Your momma called you James, didn't she?"

He spluttered, his lip trembling. "Yeah. You don't mind having bits of me, like, with ya 'n stuff?"

I shake my head. "No. In fact, I love it. It makes me feel closer to you. Makes me feel nice because if you won't tell me stuff about ya past, I just have to look through the 'Howlett' files in my head."

He scrunches up his nose and shakes his head. "Why do ya wanna know about me? I'm shit, darlin'. Nothin' interestin' where I come from. Just painful junk."

"What you just said is shit, Logan," I hiss back at him. "You're important to me."

He rubs his hand over the stubble on his chin, his brown arching up at me. His hair's not been gelled today, and I kind of like the rugged look that he's sporting. Chestnut locks hang down before his eyes and he blows them away in irritation. "M'not used to people givin' a shit, I guess."

_**You're somethin' else, darlin'.**_

_I know._

There's a chuckle inside my mind and I blush slightly. "I give a shit, Logan. You come off as this bad boy, but really beneath all those scowlin' masks that you like to wear…you're an amazing person."

He winces. "Yer makin' me sound like a pansy."

I smile widely, flicking my hair out of my eyes. "I know."

0o0o0o0o

"No, you gotta really feel the music. You're actin' stiff as a rod." I'm blaring the music louder now, for a new song has come on. Teaching the Wolverine to dance has not gone so well yet. But this is a personal favorite song of mine, and I'm hoping that if I can really feel it, he'll be able to feel it too. "Now, c'mere."

"I don't dance."

_**Wolverine doesn't dance. **_The psyche in my head repeats.

I grab his hand and pull him closer to me. I thread my fingers through his and he lifts an eyebrow. "We don't got nothin' else to do!" I exclaim.

"I'd rather watch you dance," he says, leaning back on the couch and folding his arms behind his head. He's trying to get comfortable, but I won't let him.

"I wanna dance with you. Please, sugah. Dance with me."

He growls, but then gives in with a heavy sigh. I squeal in excitement. "Fine. But you tell no one about this."

"Hand on my hip," I whisper. His hand slides from his pockets to his my hips. He swallows thickly and rubs his hand over the smooth skin there. The t-shirt rides up a little and my milky white flesh is revealed to him. "Eyes up here," I say in an amused manner. He gives me a cocky little lopsided grin and I place my hands firmly on his shoulders.

_I was a quick, wet boy_

_Diving too deep for coins_

I keep my eyes locked to his and he smiles softly again, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. I move my body against him in a sensual way, moving to the music. His hand slithers up my torso. His fingers slide between the valley of my breasts and trace my collarbone.

_All of your streetlight eyes_

_Wide on my plastic toys_

"What's on your mind?" I ask him.

"You," he responds.

I laugh a little before realizing that he wasn't fooling around with me. He wasn't kidding, not at all. The hand on my waist grips my skin a little tighter and his eyes begin to turn black.

I swallow a lump in my throat and feel my heart beating quickly against my check. My mind's racing with images and the Wolverine's dirty thoughts. Hell, I know he wants me. He's just too stupid to act on his feelings.

Or maybe he's afraid to.

It's like a magnetic force field, bringing us together. His lips are closer to mine than they were a second ago, and before I can do anything, his mouth engulfs mine.

_Have I found you,_

_Flightless bird_

_Jealous, weeping_

_Or lost you?_

He slams me against the wall and shoves his tongue into my mouth, battling for dominance. He's hot, he's needy, he's passionate. I can't help but release a moan when his pelvic area grinds against mine. I can't believe that this is actually happening.

He fists my hair and pulls my head back, exposing my neck to his greedy mouth. He trails hot, open mouthed kisses down the smooth ridge of my neck and runs his tongue through the dip between my collarbones. His hands grope my breasts possessively, his head resting on my stomach.

I clutch at his hair, my hands grasping at his hair. He stops his movement. His hand slides from my breast and falls limply beside him. He pulls away, shaking his head. "Marie, I…"

Logan looks at me and then turns away. My heart feels like it's been split into two. _Don't walk away. Wolverine? Wolverine, tell him to come back. Tell him it's okay._

"I'm fucked up."

Tears sparkle at my eyes again. "No you're not."

He whirls around, a terrifying look on his face. "You're just a kid!" he screams at me. Then he turns and grabs at his hair. "God...you're a kid, Marie."

My face turns bright red and I blink my eyes in anger, clenching my fists. Tears roll down my cheeks. "Seriously? You're gonna play that shit on me? I'm twenty-three fuckin' years old! I'm not a kid anymore!" I yell at him.

"Doesn't change a thing," he snarls.

"You were never around to see me grow up, so I don't expect you to understand. You missed my birthday, the one that I sent countless letters out to you and you still didn't fuckin' come!"

He grasps the chair in his hands, his knuckles turning white. His claws are fighting to get out. "I said I was sorry." I wipe my eyes and bow my head, not wanting to look at him. My hair fans around my face and provides a curtain for me. "I wanted to be there. Be there for you…"

"Yeah well, me too. But I wanted it so much more than you ever did. If you really cared, then you wouldn't have gone." I hiss at him.

He shakes his head, not daring to look at me. But I wanted him to look at me. "Please. Just forgive me."

"You regret kissing me."

There's a moment of silence where I just watch Logan stand there and stare out of the window at the snow that's still falling. When he nods, my world falls apart.

I puff out my chest and shake my head. "I don't regret it."

His head whips around and he looks at me with such emotion, and for a second I think that he actually might give a shit and come over to me and kiss me again, but he just turns back around and sticks a cigar in his mouth.

It's like a dagger plunging through my stomach. I turn and walk up the stairs, watching him for any sign of movement as I disappear up the steps. He just shakes his head and continues to smoke his cigar.

I shouldn't play my cards on a man a have no chance of ever snagging. Not until he wants me like I want him.

0o0o0o0o

**This was actually really fast chapter, considering I posted chapter 5 two days ago…but anyways, thanks for reading! Leave a review and let me know what you're thinking about this chapter. I love feedback and hearing what you guys think about what I've written. **

**Courtney xx**


	7. Watercolors

**Author's Note: Hey guys! This chapter is gonna be a little shorter because I felt like it was perfect to leave it off at this point in order to capture suspense and building feeling. Also, another thing I wanted to say was about Logan's hair: his hair right now is like his hair in X-Men Origins: Wolverine. I just love his hair like that, so that's the way I'm picturing it. You can picture it anyway you like though. Just clarifying!**

**Thank you: FrozenFractures, Killin-time, I'm a Nerd and Proud, Peyton Cummings, tanya2byour21, JaynaLeeTietje, maji343, Guest 1, EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire, identityless, Roganette, The all mighty and powerfulM, EllezBellz, AB Feta, Bookworm22, Blab Labels, and Guest 2.**

**Song: **Dear Marie by John Mayer **(this song is the one I used in the chapter. It's beautiful and the most meaningful lyrics are in the story.)**

**Chapter 7: Watercolors**

I've not talked to Logan for a full day now. Not the rest of yesterday, after we'd kissed, and not today at all. It's already six o' clock at night and I've begun to feel anxious. This morning he left me alone for hours to go and check the traps, but it doesn't take hours to check the damn traps. Sure, he came home with some rabbits but he came home with smeared blood on his face.

The Wolverine told me that the human side of him just needed to calm down with some cage fighting since I riled him up real bad last night. But I didn't kiss him, he kissed me. And he said that he regretted kissing me, but then I said that I didn't. Stupid.

I fried up some rabbit and made him another stew since he'd liked the last one so much. He ate dinner in the living room on the couch while watching some stupid television show. I just ate my bowl of soup in the kitchen while I'd paged through my book like some idiot.

He kept on watching his television. Setting his empty bowl on the coffee table in front of him, he waited for me to come pick it up. I didn't, at first. I washed the rest of the dishes, put them away and stored the rest of the leftover stew away into the refrigerator.

When I took his bowl, he murmured a brief 'thanks', though keeping his eyes glued to the television screen. Now I'm sitting here, completely humiliated and upset with myself. My hands twist the lemon pound cake scented candle that I'd lit and I watch the fumes curl up into the dark air.

I hear footsteps behind me, and I freeze. He's standing right behind me, opening the refrigerator door and fishing himself out a beer bottle. He's had about a dozen Molson's today. Instead of going back to the couch where I predicted, he comes and sits right in front of me.

"I'm getting' rid of tha shower."

I look up at him with an astonished look in my eyes. What the fuck? Why would he get rid of the shower? "Is there a reason to get rid of the shower, or are you just being an idiot?"

His lip quirk up at the corners. I can't tell if he's joking or not, but he's making me feel slightly uncomfortable. "Don't want ya wipin' me out of my mutation again because you're havin' sexual fantasies in the shower."

I cough loudly, my eyes bulging out my head. "Excuse me?"

He taps his nose and gives me another satisfactory grin. "I can smell everythin'. And since Wolverine's in yeh mind now, he can tell me this kinda shit." I'm absolutely horrified and I'm not sure whether I want to slap the bitch out of him or not. My hands are shaking, and my face is surely turning a dastardly shade of pink. I use my free hand to wipe my hair out of my eyes.

"Who were ya thinkin' of?" he asks me.

My head whips up to give him a deathly stare. He smirks at me and leans back in his seat, tipping back the bottle. "You really wanna know, huh?" Two can play at this game. He nods his head and gives me a slow forming grin.

He's drunk, and he wants to play. So I'll play. "Who is it, baby?"

"Scott," I lie.

He's a little surprised. No, fuck it, he's really surprised. He even looks a little hurt when he hears my answer. Because it's not him, and it's his arch-nemesis. Not that I care, though. But he decides to go play in the deeper waters. "And what did Scooter-bug do ya, huh, baby?"

I narrow my eyes and dig my nails into the wood of the table. "All kindsa bad stuff," I whisper. "It's real naughty, sugah. I don't think I should go into much detail."

He growls and slams his bottle down on the table, challenging me. "Tell me. Now. I want it in full fucking detail. What was Scooter doing to ya in yeh little dream?"

I stare at him and chew my lip. "He was touchin' me all over. Kissing me all on my breasts, runnin' his hands over my ass…" His eyes narrow and his claws poke at his skin. "He was kissin' me on my neck real nice and tender and whisperin' real sweet things in my ear."

He growls. "You liked it, didn't you? Fucked ya like a slut. Don't tell me yeh proud of that, Marie."

Next thing I know, I'm by the door with my coat and boots on, storming out into the miserable weather. Logan's a little dumbfounded, scrambling to the door after me. "Fuck you," I whisper.

"I know yeh better than that and I know that yeh were lyin'. If ya want some time alone, I'll go out. Don't go outside, it's miserable." He tells me.

"You act like you care," I whisper.

He's a little flustered by my comment. "Don't _ever_ say that I don't fuckin' care about ya. I'm sorry about what happened last night and the shit I just said, but you gotta know that I'll never stop caring about you."

I push past him and stumble down the icy stairs. He slips on his coat and stumbles after me, slipping on his boots and coat as well. "The cold doesn't bother me," I whisper as he comes up by my side.

He grabs my arm and yanks me back a little, forcing me to face him. "Get yer skinny ass back in the cabin, Marie."

I yank myself out of his grip and trudge deeper into the snow, snowflakes falling down slowly and softly landing in my hair. "I was lyin' about Scott," I mutter. "I was really thinkin' about you."

He nods his head slowly. "Yeah, I know. I guess I was just tryna see if yeh would tell me the truth or not."

"I hate fightin' with you, Logan," I tell him, staring at him.

"Ya think I like it?" he asks. Logan pulls me closer, halting my movement. "Hate fightin' with you, darlin'. Feels like shit when I see ya cryin' and all upset. M'not worth yer tears."

I stare down at my boots, sheathed in seven inches of snow. "You're crazy if you think you're not worth my tears. Either that, or you're just too fucking blind to see that." He grabs my arm and squeezes me hard through my coat, but I still don't pay him any mind. "Get off," I hiss. "That hurts."

He snarls at me. "Come inside. Now." He's acting all macho and tough, but that's only to scare me into coming back inside with him. I'm enjoying the miserable weather. Everything's coated in white snow like vanilla icing on top of a cake.

I finally give in and let him tug me back to the cabin. I stumble over my feet and almost land face first in the snow. But with the help of Logan, I strategically escape from that outcome. He yanks me back to his side and shakes his head. "Jesus, kid," he murmurs. "Walk much?"

I yank away from him and kick my boots off on the cabin porch. "Don't wanna go inside yet. Leave me alone, please." I whisper. He just stares.

"Kid, I said that I was sorry 'bout what happened and what I did—"

I turn away. "I know. Ya told me that already. Just leave it alone, Logan."

I don't expect him to leave. But he does, disappearing into the cabin with the shake of his head. I bite back a pained sob and tried to distract myself with how pretty the iced stick-bare trees really aren't. I sit down on the snowy wooden bench and take my gloves off, feeling the wind claw menacingly at my skin.

"Kid."

So we're back to that stage, are we? I turn and see him standing there with two mugs of tea. He hands me a cup and I cautiously take it, feeling the warmth engulf my frostbitten fingers. I look down at the cup. He sits down next to me and sends me a sideways glance.

"Green," he mumbles. "With cinnamon and honey."

My eyebrows shoot up. "You remembered?" I ask him.

Nodding his head, he answers with, "I do listen, you know."

I take a sip of the tea and let the warm liquid slide down my throat. "Why don't we just…forget about what we were arguing about? We're up here supposed be having fun, and I don't want something silly to ruin that."

He nods his head again and looks out into the snow. "Yeah. Yer right." Then he adds, "It's fuckin' miserable out here."

A gust of wind picks up some of the softer snow laying on top of the ice and sends it flying into my eyes. I wipe it away quickly and nod my head. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

0o0o0o0o

He took a nap for an hour, leaving me to do whatever the hell I wanted. I was in the spare room that I'd told Logan not to trash, trying my skills on painting. I'd created a sunset over a lake, and a meadow with bright flowers and a puffy-cloud filled sky. Now I was busy painting a picture of the cabin with snow everywhere.

"Hey."

I jump at his voice. I'd been softly playing music from the old radio I'd spied sitting on one of the dusty old shelves and the only radio stations that could connect from all the way up here were the fuzzy radio stations that played soft songs and country-folkish songs. Not that I minded, though.

"I can do paintings," he says, sitting down on a stool beside me. I chew my lip and my brush flies a mile a minute. I dip my brush into a different shade of brown and smooth out the imperfections in the wooden cabin that I was constructing.

The song finished and on came one that I never heard before, but it was about me. John Mayer wrote about me. And Logan.

_Dear Marie_

_Tell me what it was I used to be_

"Yeh paintings…they're real good. Where'd you learn ta paint like that?" Logan asks me curiously.

"I used to take these art classes back in Mississippi, and I was the teacher's pet. Ms. Bowler loved me because I always had the best pieces." I say quietly, smearing the paint a little to create a more 'woodsy' effect on the cabin.

He looks at my other paintings and shakes his head in awe. I sneak a glance at him through my peripherals. "You still mad at me, darlin'?"

I shake my head, denying his answer. "No, just focused." My brow furrows and I dip my brush into another shade of paint. Shadowing the items in a painting makes it look all the more realistic, as I'd learned before.

_And if you're further up the road_

_Can you show me what I still can't see_

Logan was obviously searching for attention, trying to make me aware that he was sitting right next to me when he dabbed two fingers in one of my cans of paint and wiped them on the side of my cheek, leaving two purple streaks running across my skin. I gasp and drop my brush, standing up from my seat as I wiped at the paint.

_Remember me_

_I'm the boy you used to love_

_When you were fifteen_

"What the hell?" I ask, wiping my cheek off on a towel. He just smirks and flicks more paint at me. This time it lands on my shirt. I gasp again and scowl at him. "Are you trying to make me hurt you?"

He snorts and dabs his fingers into the red paint. "Nah. Just tryna have some fun with ya, that's all."

I scoff. "You think this is havin' fun with me? Well—" I turn away just as he flicks more paint onto me. "You asshole! My shirt's gettin' all dirty now!"

He shrugs his shoulders and moves to the green paint. "Then take it off," he says, like taking off my shirt so he could fling paint at my naked skin was no big deal.

"What are you implyin'?" I ask him with narrowed eyes. He puts his hands up and shakes his head.

_**Remember me**_

_I'm the boy you used to __**love**_

_When you were __**fifteen**_

"Just sayin' that ya should take yer shirt off so ya don't hafta get yer crafty shirt all full of paint and shit." Logan replies with a casual shrug. When I see that he's getting ready to launch more paint at me, I rip off my shirt and throw it into the corner of the room.

I had hoped that I was wearing a bra…and God is real. It was a pink push-up bra, not the best to be showing to Logan. I heard the Wolverine growl in the back of my mind, and I know that what he's seeing, he approves of.

He moves for the paint, but I'm too quick. I grab the blue paint can, the one that's nearest to me, and splash it onto him, making him curse loudly and stand up as the paint drips down to his pants. I'm cracking up in the corner as he rips off his shirt before paint can drip all the way down his legs.

"How does it feel now?" I ask through spurts of outrageous laughter. "Ya look like a smurf! Papa smurf."

He growls and wipes at the paint that soaked through his shirt and onto his chest. "Ya wanna play, darlin? Let's fuckin' play." He comes at me with the paint dripping from his fingers and draws on my skin while I struggle in his firm grasp, trying to escape.

_Dear Marie_

_Tell me, do you still believe in me?_

"Let go of me!" I'm laughing against my better judgment and I've stopped struggling. He chuckles softly and goodheartedly picks up the paintbrush. The wet tip tickles my skin as he paints on me.

He growls at me again, his lips pulling up over his teeth. I lightly jab his cheek with my finger. "Now you look like Grumpy smurf," I murmur. His growl dies down immediately and he can't help but smile.

I pick up some paint and turn around in his grasp, using my paint-drenched fingers to create some odd tribal markings on his chest. He doesn't seem to care, so I draw my fingers up his neck and feel when he breathes in.

The stubble on his chin, the veins, the rough bones of his jaw, his hot cheek…

He lets me go with a strained cough and goes back to the paint to avoid any awkwardness. He dumps the pink paint on me and I screech as it goes sliding down my stomach. He laughs and I wipe it away, coming at him and pressing my pink handprints down on his chest, over his muscled pecks.

He stumbles back against the table and knocks some papers off of it. I laugh and fling more paint at him. It slides down through the indentations in his muscled abdomen (Jubes said that girls these days call it six packs, or whatever). He smiles when I laugh again.

_Oh dear Marie_

_Tell me, do you still believe in me?_

I glance down at myself. I look like a human-rainbow, the way different colors of paint swirl over my breasts and stomach. He looks like a Native American with the way I used the red and black paints to make tribal markings on his skin, overriding the blue paint that I'd graciously dumped on him a few minutes before. It's a good look. It's a _sexy_ look, to be frank.

The room's trashed, with paint everywhere on the walls, chairs, and tables. And us, of course. The paint was even in my hair. Logan just stands there, his breath labored and his eyes lustful. There's brightly colored paint staining my tight-fitted yoga pants and my once-clean pink bra.

I wipe my hands on a paper towel, getting rid of the wet paint there. "I'm a complete mess," I say softly. "We should probably hop in the shower."

"I got rid of tha shower."

My face reddens in embarrassment. "Gawd, I thought you were kiddin'." I say.

He shakes his head. "I don't really kid that often."

I shift in my stance and feel some yellow paint drip down my abdomen. "How the hell did you get rid of the shower with me knowin'? What did you use to dismantle the, uh, shower?"

He pops his claws and shows them to me. "Sliced 'em like a knife through warm butter, darlin'," he explains.

"Well, what's there now? How're we gonna get cleaned, huh?"

"I got a bathtub."

I nod my head. "Bathtubs…they're nice."

0o0o0o0o

"I promise ya, I'm not gunna look or nothin'." Logan explains, turning on the washing machine. "Just give me the clothes and then ya can run yer nekkid ass over to the bathroom."

I nod my head even though he's not looking at me. I strip out of my clothes and hand them to Logan. He takes them and throws them into the washing machine, along with his shirt and dirty pants. He strips down completely bare. "Holy shit!"

He's got a nice backside, I'll agree. I didn't know he went commando, but I know now. "What, ya ain't never seen a man's ass before?" he asks, beginning to turn around. When I shriek for him to turn around because I'm naked, he adds, "And it sure as hell ain't like I never seen a naked woman before."

My face reddens like a tomato about to burst. I open the door to the laundry room and run quickly over to the bathroom. He's already started the bathtub up for me and was nice enough to set my soaps, washcloth, and towel on the floor beside the tub.

The tub sits where the shower used to be, attached to the same pipes and overlooking the window. It was a window that I would like to leave the blinds open with because absolutely no one was out here to spy on me out here in the middle of fucking nowhere.

The tub was right in front of the door, so that if someone were to walk straight through the bathroom door, they'd see the naked person in the tub first. But I couldn't change a thing about where Logan chose to situate the bathtub.

I climb into the tub, moaning softly as the hot water bombards my freezing skin. It's like heaven when a body's resting their achy, chilled bones in a tub of nice, hot water.

I grab my soap and washcloth. My body wash smells like mixed berries and honeysuckle. It's a weird combination, but it smells like soap heaven. I squirt some onto the washcloth and rub it over my arms.

I rub my skin raw, making sure the paint is completely off of my skin, before until I move down onto my legs and feet. I hold my foot with my hand and scrub the soles of my feet, where I seemed to have stepped in some black paint.

"Dammit."

It's not coming off, and I lift my leg higher, scrubbing my foot harder. My momma always used to tell me that I was rubbing the skin right off of my body, and I wouldn't disagree with her.

The door closes shut quietly. Normally I wouldn't have heard it, but my senses were heightened when I absorbed Logan's mutation earlier. My head whips towards the door. He's standing there with a towel wrapped around his midsection, paint still covering his body.

"Did you mean it when you said that you didn't regret the kiss?" he asks me, his eyes lowering to stare at the towel on the bathroom floor.

I lower my leg cautiously, dropping the washcloth back into the water, that has now turned into a swirl of colors (watercolors, I suppose). "Of course I did." I answer the question without thinking about the consequences, if they end up being bad or good.

His body's still painted with the colors I'd given him, red and black tribal markings, pink handprints on his chest, and spontaneous blue splatters here and there. He's stepping inside of the room now, slowly, so painfully slowly. "Once I start, there's no going back."

I'm not sure what he means. I'm confused. My body sloshes the water in the tub a little as I situate myself up higher. He walks over to me, his breathing heavy and labored. I'm aghast.

He kneels at my side, sticking his hands inside of the water carefully. The paint bleeds into the water and curls over the tops of my naked breasts. Logan seems hesitant at first as he leans his head towards mine.

When our lips touch, a burning fire travels through my body. He kisses me harder this time, forcing my mouth open with his teeth and filling it with his tongue. He lifts himself up to get better leverage. He smacks light, sweet kisses over my open lips before dipping his tongue inside of my mouth to taste me again. His hands travel through the water, up my neck until they reach my cheeks.

He grasps my face in his hands and I surge forward, getting lost in the kiss myself. When he pulls away I'm left gasping for air. That was without a doubt, the most passionate, lustful kiss I'd ever experienced.

Now I'm left wondering what I did wrong for him to pull away. He looks conflicted with himself, and it breaks my heart a little. "Let me guess," I say sullenly, leaning back in the water, my damp hair fanning around my shoulders. "You regret that too?"

He shakes his head, a serious expression on his face. "I was lying when I said that I regretted our last kiss." My eyes grow wide and my lips part as I take in a much-needed breath. "And…" his voice is husky and filled with lust. "I'd be lying if I said that I regretted this one too."

And with that, his lips descend upon mine again.

**0o0o0o0o**

**Thanks for reading, guys. Leave a review and tell me what you think is going to happen between Marie and Logan next! The more the merrier, and the merrier I am, the faster my pen flies. (:**

**Courtney xx**


	8. I've Got You

**Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm back. This chapter is definitely rated M for sexual content. Hope this is what you all have been waiting for. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting forever.**

**Thank you: Killin-time, tanya2byour21, I'm a Nerd and Proud, JaynaLeeTietje, maji343, windsweptrose (thank you for such a kind review!), Lilabug, EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire, identityless, Roganette, The all mighty and powerfulM, Bookworm22, AB Feta, Blab Labels, Frozen Fractures, Kylie, EllezBellz, MorganOfTheFey and Chante. 21 reviews is really amazing!**

**Also, thank you to those who followed and favorited the story. I got really excited when of my favorite authors started following The Cabin. MorganOfTheFey: You're an amazing author. Omg.**

**Song: Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran (I loooooove this song so effin' much and Logan and Marieeee.)**

**Chapter 8: I've Got You**

He grabs me by the back of the neck, his mouth crashing over mine. I run my nails down his arms, moaning into his mouth. His free hand plunges into the colored bathwater and wraps around my waist, lifting my pelvic region up slightly, so that my defined hipbones could make a slight appearance.

And he isn't stopping.

The need is running through me, every nerve ending lit aflame, and every touch that he gives bringing me to a more aroused state. I make a snap decision and use both of my hands to tug him up, but he ends up toppling into the water with me.

His fully clothed body lands on mine and water sloshes out onto the bathroom floor. Logan pulls away in shock, the water instantly soaking the towel around his waist. I'm afraid that he'll shake his head and tell me that we're we doing in wrong, completely wrong.

His hands land slowly slide onto my waist and rub my naked flesh in a soothing sort of way. I must have had a shocked look on my face, or something, because he laughs and kisses my collarbone reassuringly. I let out a breathy chuckle myself, the pleasurable ache travelling further and further south.

"You don't want this…do you?"

I look at him. His face is buried in the side of my neck, his lips gently touching the skin there. "I'm not a kid anymore, Logan. Of course I want this." I notice that the towel's floating in the bathwater—it must have come undone.

His breathing is steady and he's shaking slightly. He growls and he nips at my neck, trailing little bites and licks across my chest and collarbone, running his fingers down the valley between my breasts. He takes one into his hands and kneads softly, making me arch my back in pleasure.

"Logan," I gasp, my lips lingering millimeters from his. He grabs the wet towel and throws it on the bathroom floor, leaving a huge puddle on the tile. He's naked. I'm naked. We're both naked, and we're lying in a bathtub, secluded in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

"I'm gonna go to hell for this," he whispers to me. My heart sinks and I think he's going to get out of the tub at first. But I'm quickly proven wrong when he yanks me up from my prone position from lying on my back to straddling his waist.

I can feel his naked erection against my thigh, the tip pressing against my entrance. I can tell it's huge without even looking at it. He rests his forehead against mine gently and lightly places both of his hands on my neck. When I squirm in his grasp due to the result of being uncomfortable, he lets out a long, drawn out moan.

His hand strokes my back lazily and I press my body up against his. I nod my head when he looks up at me. I lift myself up and allow him to position his manhood at my entrance. His hands slide to my hips as he slowly bears me down on his cock. I gasp and cry out from his sheer size.

I'm not a virgin, but I haven't had sex in years. It's been so long I don't even remember the date. His eyes fly to mine and he sees me clenching my teeth. Hell, I might as well be a virgin. "It's okay," he murmurs in a soothing voice, pressing soft kisses to my breasts. "I've got you. I've got you, baby. Look me in the eye."

He hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my face up so his eyes meet mine. It seems like his need for me quickly turns into sweet desire when his hips snap forward in one fluid motion, filling me completely.

The tip of his cock brushes up against my cervix, sending pleasure-pain through my body. I cry out and throw my head back. He grabs me somewhat roughly and pulls me back down, crashing his lips down onto mine. His tongue coaxes my mouth open, swiping at my own tongue, tasting me. He leans back to the other end of the tub and pulls me with him.

I gasp a little, his size transitioning from almost painful to unbelievably pleasurable. He uses one hand to guide my eyes to his. "Eyes on me. I wanna see yer expression when yer ridin' me." I nod my head and whimper slightly, the water sloshing in the tub as he situates himself. "Fuck me, darlin'."

I'm surprised, and I've never been on top of a man before. I place my hands on his shoulders and give an experimental roll of my hips. Our reactions are both the same. We both gasp loudly and shut out eyes tightly in pleasure. "Fuck yes," Logan mutters. "Keep goin' just like that."

I roll my hips forward some more, and I'm satisfied in the reaction I'm getting from him. He's panting and his hands are tightly grasping my hips as I grind myself down on his cock. He meets my demand by thrusting up into my body spontaneously, causing me to lose my balance and cry out. "Logan!"

He takes my nipple into his mouth and rolls it in his teeth. His right hand comes down hard on my ass and I moan loudly in shock. "I'm here, baby," he whispers, soothing me slightly.

I lean back into the bathtub and rock against him, pleasure coursing through my veins. The bath water's gone down efficiently due to the frequent splashing. His face is scrunching up and his eyes are darkening. "I'm…fuck…"

He scoops me up in his bulky arms and presses me closer to him. His fingers find my sweet spot and rub gently in a circular motion.

I blow apart at the seams. The long awaited feel of his heated body, his skin bare and slick against hers, his scent, his lips pressed to hers. I throw my head back with a craving whimper, my back arching and thrusting my chest into his face. From his magical hugs that Logan gave me when I was a young teenager to a life-changing, ground-breaking fuck in the tub. His touch had always done something to me that no one else could.

From the tightening of my walls, he pulls himself out and slams back in with brute force. I tip my head to the side and allow his most lips better access. My hands somehow find themselves on his shoulders and my fingernails are currently clawing into his skin with ardor.

His lips attach to mine, sucking away my air. I feel like the whole world's tilting on its ear and I feel another wave of pleasure coming on. He grabs my leg and lifts it higher for a better angle; the water splashes everywhere, streaks of paint running down my arms.

I tear myself away from the kiss with a strangled gasp and grasp at the back of his neck. His finger stroked up my wetness, making me jerk in surprise. I bite back another moan behind my stalwart lips as every neuron in my body lights up like the city at night.

Like a rope had been cut, his eyes shut and opens black as the night. He flips me around so that he's on top of me and gulps me down with a single blink. His eyes are voracious and lustful, needing, and not wanting.

He draws his hips back and slams into me so hard that my head bounces lightly off of the tub's lip. I cry out and clutch at his bulky arms with the muscles as big as my head.

Logan's so strong.

He begins thrusting into me with a rhythm that is instantly fervent and arduous. One of my hands wraps around his bicep and the other splayed on his firm ass as I try to reign in my pleasure.

Who would hear me out here, in the middle of nowhere? I'm free to be as vocal as I very well please.

My lips are trembling as he pumps muted groans of pleasure over my skin. "Holy shit," he mumbles. "Feel it, don't ya? All hard for you, darlin."

He draws back into my body with fervor, his hands grasping at my skin with need. I moan shamelessly and wiggle in his arms as his hips speed up. "Logan, I…"

He cuts my sentence in half when his lips encase the words that I'd been meaning to say. He's so big, and I feel like I might either tear in half or erupt like a volcano at the immense pleasure. "You can take it," he assures me softly, pressing his lips to the right corner of mine. "I've got you, darlin'. Yer all mine now."

His wet hair hangs over his eyes and flings water droplets onto my chest as he thrusts harder against me. Sensations run through my body as I get ready to climax again. By the look in his eyes, I can tell that he's close as well.

The feral need, want, the lust.

_**Yer ours now, baby girl. Gonna fuck ya 'till ya can't walk no more.**_

The added dialogue from Wolverine sends me into pleasurable blindness, the only thing that I'm focusing on is how his cock feels sliding in and out of me. His hot breath comes in short puffs on my skin as he drives himself towards his own climax.

His eyes are yellowing, and the growls and snarls are coming more frequently.

"Logan?"

"I'm here."

"_Love you_."

At my words, he pulls out and streams of white cum jet from his cock onto my stomach. I cum with him when his fingers find the apex of my thighs and rub my sweet spot in circles. He curses loudly a few times, leaning back on his haunches while he strokes himself for maximum pleasure.

I heave out breaths, clutching at my breasts. Suddenly, I become conscious as he leans against the other side of the tub, his manhood laying flaccidly against his thigh. He gives me another sexy grin as he runs his fingers through his dripping hair. He shakes his head like a wet dog before sighing in contentment.

My hands find my breasts and shield my nipples from his eyes. Like it's kicked in now that Logan's seen me naked and has fucked my brains out. My face turns a downright pitiful pink color as I blush in embarrassment.

"Don't do that," he croons. "Yer goddamn beautiful, Marie. No hidin' allowed." I slowly lower my hands and let him stare full-on at my erect nipples. "'Sides," he adds. "Now there ain't nothin' of yours that I haven't seen."

I let out a little laugh against my better judgment and his face lights up instantly as well. "Yeah, guess not."

He grins and opens his arms. "C'mere, baby."

I slowly lift myself up from my position and crawl to the other end of the tub, my breasts sliding against his chest as I lay my head down in the crook of his neck. "That was…that was really, _really_ good." I whisper to him.

He snorts, and his chest rumbles under my head. "Ya ain't seen nothin' yet, baby." His left hand slides from its position gripping the lip of the tub to my backside, giving a squeeze and then a light slap. "I'm a very experienced man. An' I'd be more n' happy to show ya some things. I'm the best there is at what I do."

I feel myself burning up again, my tongue darting out to moisten my dry lips. I feel something pressing against my leg again and I instantly lift my head and look into his eyes.

He's as serious as a rock. His lips are trembling and his eyes are beyond lustful. "Love you too, darlin'. Love you too."

0o0o0o0o

"It's fuckin' cold out here, and you're standing barefooted on the porch with a shirt an' panties on." I hear him say from out in front of the cabin. A gust of wind blows my hair behind my shoulder and I look back at him and smile.

I'd been watching him plow the driveway of the cabin for the last half hour and he hasn't noticed me until now. After he finished some soup that I made, he went out began to plow the driveway because Scott called and sassed Logan, telling him that the vacation had lasted longer than Logan had discussed with Scott. And that we should be getting home in the next day or so. Which I wasn't really looking forward to.

He breathes in, squinting under the porch light at me. "Seriously kid, you need to go inside and put some clothes on." Then he squints harder at me. "An' why you sparklin' like that?"

"Bobby's mutation," I reply with a smile. "I absorbed a lotta him that time I slapped him so hard he landed in a coma for two months. He can turn into ice, and I got a little bit of that. I'm not fully ice, I'm just frosted over. Frost insulates the heat and keeps out the cold."

He shakes his head. "Yer somethin' else."

"I know."

I watch him climb the porch steps and take off his hat, letting his hair fall around his face. He grabs me by the back of the neck and smacks a kiss to my frosted lips. He pulls back as his lips become blue. "Shit, yer cold."

My frost instantly melts away as I kiss him again, this time without my frozen mouth. Logan's lips resume their normal color. Another gust of chilly wind blows by the cabin and this time I can actually feel it. I yelp and swing open the door. He slaps my ass with his gloved hand as I scramble into the warmth.

My toes feel like they're about to fall off. I plop down in front of the fire and rub them with my hands softly. Logan strips off his coat, shirt, and boots before joining me by the fire. He hands me a fair sized box out of nowhere.

"What's this?" I ask.

"Open it and you'll see."

I jostle the box around before popping off the top and seeing what was inside. There was a wooden tea cup, smooth as a baby's butt sitting inside of the box. "Oh my God!" I exclaim as I pull the cup out of the box. It has glossy, smooth wood and at the bottom of the cup there's a packet of green tea. "I didn't know you carved."

"There's a lotta things you don't know 'bout me, darlin'." He smiles at me, the shadows of the flames making his skin look golden. "I jus' thought I'd make ya a tea cup 'cause ya said that…that tea makes everythin' better."

I nod my head and laugh a little. "Yeah. Damn straight, sugar."

He stands and goes to the cupboards. My eyes follow him as he pulls out a cup identical to mine. He pulls out a tea bag as well. "I figured we should have some more tea together…do some more things together, if ya know what I mean."

I get up from place instantly and square my shoulders, staring into his eyes blankly. Suddenly everything else that's happening in the world doesn't have an effect on me. I'm not cold, I'm not thirsty. I don't see the fire, the tables, or the cup in my hands. All I see is him.

The painful ache between my legs can't stop me from running into his arms, even at this time of night. I loop my arms around his and bury my face into his chest, my lips pressing to the skin there. He embraces me back, kissing the top of my head lovingly. "I'll make the tea," I murmur, pulling back and grabbing the tea packets.

He pushes my hands away abruptly and shakes his head. "No," he begins in a firm tone. Then he smiles at me. "I'll make the tea this time around."

**0o0o0o0o**

**Yeah, yeah, I know that this chapter was really, really short. But I have my sister's birthday party this weekend and I spent most of my time preparing for that. Anyways, please review. It would make me very happy! :)**

**And please be nice, I haven't written smut in a really long time. *runs and hides* More soon, I promise!**

**Courtney xx**


	9. Burdened By Your Beast

**Author's Note: Hey y'all! I'm back with another chapter. Also, I want you to picture Logan and his hair like he's got it in X-Men Origins. Kay? :) Most of the stories in this chapter are true, but I made up the one about Marie and Madeline.**

**Thank you: windsweptrose, I'm a Nerd and Proud, MorganOfTheFey, Taniurceus-day, Guest 1, AB Feta, chante, EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire, Killin-time, identityless, The all mighty and powerfulM, Roganette, Bookworm22, Blab Labels, tanya2byour21, and EllezBellz. **

**Song: Crooked Tree by Huxlee (Caitlyn Notey)**

**Chapter 9: Burdened By Your Beast**

"The roads are clear. We should really get outta here before more snow comes, and they're callin' for more snow tomorrow mornin'." Logan tells me.

I roll over in the bed, pulling the sheets with me. "I don't wanna," I whine, my hair falling into my eyes. Out of the corner of my eye I see him stand up, the bed shifting slightly after all of his weight had been lifted from the mattress. I have a perfect view of his naked backside as he slips on his jeans.

Last night was even better than the time in the bathtub. He was right about everything he'd said before. That he's the best at what he does—and it's true. He pulls open the curtains, letting the sunlight flood into the room and blind me.

I groan and pull the pillow over my head, shielding myself from the light. He pulls at the sheets, but I only clutch them tighter. "C'mon darlin', let's go—we gotta big day ahead of us. We can finish those eggs up with some bacon, and then I'll put the suitcases in the back of tha truck a little while later."

He kneels on the bed, his hands roaming up my bare arms. "I'm so comfortable. It takes me at least a half hour to fully wake up, sugah. So I wouldn't waste yah time on little ol' me."

With a firm yank, he tugs the sheet away from me, revealing my naked body to his eyes. I instantly curl up into a fetal position when the cold air nips at my skin. "Who says I'd be wastin' my time, huh baby?"

His hands land on my knees and he pushes them apart roughly. With the force of it all, I flip on my back and the pillow lands on the floor. My hair lays in waves around my face. I look like the daughter of Medusa.

It doesn't seem to faze Logan, though. His face lands right in between my thighs, his hot breath on my thighs. I gulp and instantly push myself up onto my forearms. "Logan—"

"Shh." He gently lowers me back down to the bed with a firm nudge. "Relax. Enjoy." He gives my core a good long look before ducking down and giving me a tentative lick. I gasp and my hips arch off of the bed. He chuckles softly and places his mouth on me again, his tongue working magic down there.

He teases my womanhood with his deliciously lazy tongue. Then his fingers come into play. And they're surprisingly gentle, compared to who I've been with before; I almost expected him to be rough with me. Bondage and all that shit.

Logan strokes up and down my moistened folds with his forefinger, then parted them, baring me and giving himself better access. My eyelids suddenly felt heavy as he uses his tongue on me again. I tip my head back, my breath coming in labored pants and whimpers.

His lips enclose the little pearl above my entrance and he sucks softly. I gasp again and my back arches, unintentionally thrusting my breasts up into the air. His left arm comes up and kneads my breast softly.

When he groans, the vibrations of his mouth do wonderful things to my body. I find myself riding his face like I rode his cock only hours before. "Oh God, Logan…"

He inserts a finger into me and hooks it perfectly so it's hitting my sweet spot. "You likin' it?" he asks me.

I nod quickly, bearing myself down on his mouth and now, fingers. My fingers run through his hair, cradling his head between my thighs. His finger moves faster inside of me, pressing on paradise so beautifully. His lips are on my clit again, the sweet traction becoming too much for me.

I'm going to climax. I release the rope that holds my control together and fall apart around his mouth. "_Logan!"_ He pulls away and grins, his lips wet and moist from my juices. I lay my sweaty head back onto the pillow and groan.

He walks over to the dresser and pulls out one of his shirts, slipping it on over his head. My legs are still spread wide on the bed, and my heart's still pounding. "Did that wake ya up, baby?"

I look at him from under the curtain of my hair and give a little nod. I'm flustered and still in complete shock. He laughs and buttons up his shirt, his eyes never leaving the apex of my thighs. I notice the staring and instantly become uncomfortable. I squeeze my legs shut and roll over onto my side. "Take a picture," I tell him. "It'll last longer."

He finishes the last of his buttons and grunts. "Maybe I should—that's a real good idea. Yer just so goddamn beautiful, darlin'…"

My face flushes again and I sit up, rolling out of bed. I reach for my bra, but Logan gets to it before I can. Popping his claws, he slices the straps of my bra clean off. I stand there aghast and a little bit irritated. I liked my pink strappy bra and now he's ruined it. "Sugah…I don't see a point in cuttin' all my bras up."

"No bra," he tells me in a growly voice. "Wanna see yer nipples perk up when ya get cold."

"I need a bra. I'll go up and get one—"

"Heh. Don't you dare, baby. Or you'll be goin' back to the school without a bra because they're all cut up."

I blush again and slip on a lavender long sleeve shirt. The shirt's kind of see-through and my boobs are _very_ visible. I try not to cross my arms over my chest and be embarrassed around him, but I know that he'd give me hell for it.

_**Damn straight, baby girl. **_Wolverine seemed to pitch in.

I chuckle softly and slip on my jeans. He walks out into the living room and sits his ass down while I go towards the kitchen to make the breakfast.

"Eggs and bacon, you said?" I ask him quietly. He nods his head and flips to the weather channel. I open the refrigerator door; there's a plate of leftovers from the day before and I'm pleased that Logan wasn't feeling that hungry that morning so I wouldn't have to whip up something new.

I stick the plate into the microwave and push the one minute button. I mindlessly watch the plate turn around in circles as its being heated. Logan's draped on the couch like he'd not slept in days.

When the microwave timer beeps loudly, I remove the bacon and eggs and peel off the plastic wrap. I open the cabinet and select a plate from Logan's collection. "What's it sayin' huh, sugah?" I ask him curiously while separating the eggs and bacon out into two parts, one smaller, and one bigger. I, of course, give the bigger portion to Logan and the smaller to myself.

"No more snow to come," he tells me softly. "So I think we're good to go, darlin.' Maybe afta lunch we can pack up and I'll load the suitcases in the back of the truck."

I nod my head quietly and set the plates down, pouring him a hot cup of tea. "It's ready, if you want." He drags himself up into a standing position and lumbers over to the table.

He plops himself into a seat and runs his fingers through his tousled brown locks. I can't help but smirk a little. "Looks like we traded places. Now look who's the bump on the log?"

Logan grins softly at me and stabs a piece of bacon with his fork. "I can still taste ya on my tongue," he blurts. I gasp a little, the eggs on my fork falling back onto the plate as my hand jerks. He grins and puts the bacon into his mouth. "An' I can smell what I'm doin' to ya now. Well, again."

I grouch at him and try to eat my breakfast without becoming so painfully aroused. "Eat." I tell him.

"Eggs an' bacon ain't what I wanna eat right now."

_Gawd._

"You just did though!"

He shrugs. "Thinks it makes a difference to me?"

"No…" I whisper. "No. I don't want to."

He smirks and takes a sip of his tea. "Liar." My face goes bright red and I disregard him while I eat my breakfast.

Logan finishes before I do and dumps his plate in the sink before announcing he was going to go outside to chop some more wood for the fireplace and not to 'miss him too much.'

"I'll try not to," I say with a smile as he walks out of the door. I finish up the last piece of bacon and throw my plate into the sink. He gives me a wink before stepping out into the icy backyard.

The idea comes into my mind that I could possibly sew up my favorite bra that got in the way of Logan's sexual frustration. I venture into his room to find it. Flipping on the light, I spot my bra sitting beside his open suitcase.

That's when I see it.

The letter.

He kept it? He kept it after all these years? Fuck the bra, I bend down on my knees and examine the letter. It's crumbled and the ink is blotchy from the night when I first wrote it.

Do I dare read it? Do I dare try?

I open the letter and smooth out the creases and wrinkles. Squinting my eyes, I read the words of an 18 year old girl.

_Dear Logan,_

_I know you'll never read this, and I'd be damned if you did. I just have no way of ever telling you this in person because I'm real afraid of what you'll think…what you'll say. How you'll react. I'm afraid of my feelings and it takes a knife straight to my heart whenever I see you with her in school. _

_Jean. Beautiful, perfect, flawless Jean Grey. God, you don't even spare me a glance when she's around. You're so worried about what she thinks about you since you supposedly fought so hard for her. But goddammit, she's taken with Scott._

_How could you kiss her? How could you love her like you do? I'm standing right here. I'd do anything, be anything for you. Ever since I first saw you in that shitty old bar in Laughlin City, I knew there was something there. It was like a balloon popped, a light went off in my head, telling me that this guy was something special despite his badass style; curse words, cigars, motorcycles and all._

_Don't you see? I want you there with me, by my side, in my bed, arms wrapped around me at night. I want your lips everywhere on me, leaving cherry red claiming marks all on my ivory skin. I want to feel you sheath yourself inside me so deep that it'd be hard to keep your control. I'd dig my nails into your shoulders and tell you that I'm all yours, forever and always. And you'd kiss me and tell me that you felt the same way before letting go._

_There. I said it—well, wrote it down in words. This is how I feel. That's how I want it, that's how I wish it could be. But nothing will ever be the way I want it to be. There's always gonna be her. She's always going to be the lock to your door, and damn, you've swallowed the key again. You're gone. Running again. _

_She doesn't want you. I do. I always will. You're blind if you don't see the brightest star in the sky, twinkling and radiating like it is for you and only. Time always runs out on me…as do my lovers. I don't want you to be one of them. Please._

_With love,_

_Marie_

"Fuck!" I crumble the letter and throw it across the room. I pull at my hair in my distress and collapse on the bed. "Why did I do that. Why, why the hell did I do that?"

_It wasn't intentional,_ I remind myself. _Sending that letter to him was a mistake, remember? Why should you care, anyways? You and him are fine now._

Remember? I remember what he said to me. That he doesn't feel the same way. I'd been so confused until he took a photo of what I wrote and slipped it in the envelope along with his next letter.

I didn't write back for months.

And he didn't seem to care.

Considering the fact that he didn't send anything to follow up on that. When I started a new conversation five months later, he didn't argue with me on that. So I read it. The scrap of yellow paper in his bag that was meant to be sent back to me,

_Kid,_

_You know you really make this fucking hard. You write me a letter like that and what do you expect from me? I seriously want to know. I'm old enough to be your father, and that's just wrong in my book. Jean's always gonna be the one. I can't ever give you what you want. It's sick, and I can't…fuck, you're just eighteen, barely out of your teens. You still look like that fiery little girl from Mississippi._

_You're just a kid and that's all you ever will be to me. Jean's the one, darlin.' You'll always be in my heart, just in a different way. And if you don't like that answer…well, you'll just have to deal with it._

_Logan_

So that was the letter he meant to send, but didn't. It was worse than I thought. And it hurt pretty damn bad, too. I could hear my momma saying it already: 'Anna Marie D'Ancanto, you'd best stop your scratchin' before I put your gloves on.'

"Somethin' on your mind, kid?" I jump at his voice and don't realize how much of a wreck I am until he gasps at my appearance. Hair messed up, mascara tears, and fresh nail marks on my skin.

I scramble to my feet, kicking his letter away and wipe away my tears instantly. "Nothin'." I say and try to push past him, but that doesn't land too well with him. He puts himself in front of the doorway and places one hand softly on my neck and the other on my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

"Bullshit," Logan curses, his brown eyes searching mine. "You're gonna tell me what's goin' on right now, Marie."

I sniff and pull away from him. "Goddamn, I said it's nothin', Logan. Can't you take a hint? I don't wanna talk about it."

I see the fresh logs sitting beside the door and rush over to pick one up and throw it into the fire. He catches me by the arm and growls at me, looking a little bit stung from my words. "I'm not kidding. I can fuckin' smell that you're lyin'."

I wrench away from him and throw the log into the fire. "Then why can't you smell when a woman just wants to be left the hell alone?" I practically scream it, my skin turning on when I shove his hand away.

The zaps from my mutation radiate through him, essentially taking his breath away as he collapses against the couch. I watch him fall, my hands flying to my mouth in shock. "Jesus," I murmur and rush to his side. My skin hadn't turned on enough to do that much damage, but I could feel some more of his memories downloading into my brain.

_James could hear his mother screaming from downstairs as two gunshots fired. He jumped out of bed as fast as he could, disregarding his sickness, and flew down the stairs like a lightning bolt._

_He never could have been prepared for what he saw. His father was lying dead on the floor and his mother was crying in the corner with the groundskeeper, Thomas and his son Dog. Thomas held the gun. _

_As James collapsed by his father's side, bursts of fury surge through his veins. His father is dead, and Thomas killed him. "There's something I got to tell you," Thomas said. "I'm your father."_

_His mother was still weeping, shaken and upset. He was so angry, blinded by his rage when searing pain emanated from between his knuckles. When James looked down he saw the tiny bone claws emerging. It hurt and he was afraid. But they grew longer and longer until they couldn't grow anymore._

_James stood menacingly and rushed at Thomas, stabbing his bone claws into the man's abdomen and thrusting him against the wall. "You're not my father!" he screamed at the groundskeeper._

_His mother stopped crying, grabbing the gun and pulling it into her hands. "What are you?" she cried._

_James fled in the night after his mother became hysterical and cast him out. While he ran from the house, he heard one last gunshot. His mother had been so appalled by him that she'd killed herself. It was the horrible truth. _

_He was in the woods, the darkness surrounding him. "Jimmy!" Thomas' son Victor, mostly known as Dog called, grabbing him by the shoulders. Dog had been one of James' friends. "Don't you see? We're brothers now. We gotta protect each other."_

"You alright?" I exclaim, running my fingers over Logan's face. He gives me a look before rolling off the couch. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry! I don't know what got into me. Hormones, I guess."

He stands by the fire, recovering from my blow. "C'mere, kid." He lifts his arm and I slip underneath it, snuggling up against his side. "S'alright. I believe ya. No more questions, I promise."

"It's easy blending in for me because I'm used to being a chameleon. No one's ever paid attention to me like you did. You made me feel special and I honestly had no idea what was happening to me. I was young, I was stupid, and foolish when I wrote that letter." I whisper to him. "You were never meant to find out about that. It was like a personal diary entry and I was just writing for the hell of it one night to get my feelings out. Never thought I'd be such a fool to grab the wrong letter off my table and send it to you."

He presses his lips to my forehead. "I'm guessing you saw the other letter…the one I wrote. Am I right?" A nod. "Well, I was stupid too. We all got stories. You tell me yours, I tell you mine."

I sit down on the couch with him, staring into the fire. "I came from a real religious family. I was like a child born of hell because of my mutation. And after I kissed Cody, my first boyfriend, and put him in a coma, they cast me out."

I can hear him silently breathing as I lay my head on his chest. "Heh. Guess we got some things in common. My mother cast me out too once she realized what kind of a beast I was. Couldn't have a devil child in 'er house, and I wouldn't blame 'er for what she did. Then she killed herself."

I exhale, tears in my eyes. "That's horrible."

He shrugs. "That's life."

"My whole town bullied me and treated me like this outcast. I hated them all, especially this one girl Madeline. I touched her and left her convulsing and choking in the street in the middle of the night. She got run over by a car the next morning because they didn't see her. She died." I grasp his wrist tightly. "I killed her."

"Sounds like the car killed her," he whispered. "I killed before too, darlin'. I got a whole long list of 'em. I remember this one time I was in the war and we invaded some camp. My brother tried raping one of the women and that didn't go too well with officers. Victor let the woman go, but he killed the officers. Of course I defended 'im."

I look up at him with interest. This man may have a thicker skin, but he was letting me under now. "What happened to you guys then?"

He stares into the fire, watching the logs crackle and send sparks up into the air. "We got captured and tied to poles back in the head center. Firing squad shot at us, but we survived 'cause of our mutations."

"I traveled around for a while, doin' just about anythin' for a ride." I say shamefully. "If I could go back and change everything that I did, I would. And about my old boyfriend Cody? I killed him too. He never came out of the coma."

"I had a wife and kids twice. My wives were Itsu and Mariko. Itsu had my son Daken, and I wanted to celebrate by throwing her a little ceremony. I had to prove myself worthy of being a father in combat but I killed one of the fighters with my claws. I wanted to leave, but not without saying goodbye to Itsu. When I found her, she was dead. Murdered by the Winter Soldier. Daken, the kid, was in someone else's care at the time, so he got lucky. Still don't know where he is today." He looked a little upset. "Probably growing old somewhere, I guess."

I rub his arms soothingly. "What about Mariko? I knew her, didn't I?"

He nods slowly. "I loved her, but she was married to a man who beat the life out of her every day. I begged her to come with me, but she felt like it was her duty to stay with that slimy bastard. They drugged me and I was forced to fight Mariko's father. I lost because I was too weak. Mariko found out about what her father did and was repulsed. She planned to kill 'im, then commit seppuku to leave honorably. Seppuku's like an honorable suicide. I couldn't let her do that…so I killed her father. We adopted this little girl Amiko when she loses her mother and Mariko took her in and we cared for her like she was our own."

I notice the look of distress on his face. "It's okay. Tell me, Logan. I'm here for you."

He sighs. "Mariko was the most beautiful person I had ever met. She tried to make peace, but they ended up poisonin' her from some toxin from a puffer fish. She begged me to end it for her quickly, because she knew how painful a death from the poison could be. I ne'er wanted to see her suffer…so I did. I killed her."

When I looked up, I saw that he was crying. My fingers run down the smooth ride of his cheek, running over the tamed, shaved muttonchops. He'd regained his full memory with the help of Professor Xavier a few years back and was M.I.A. for a month mourning over his past life. "It's okay," I whisper.

He runs a hand through his hair. "Just like I did Jean."

I silence myself and bite my lip. "You did the right thing both times. They would have suffered more if you hadn't ended it."

He looks at me, his eyes still water and his lips trembling. "You don't know what it's like finding someone you love and watching them die throughout the years because you can't grow old."

When I kiss him, I get all of his sadness and emotion that he's kept hidden under his thick skin all these years. He grabs me and pulls me closer, and kisses me harder, slipping his tongue through my lips.

_**He's afraid that if he turns his back, we'll lose you too.**_

_You'll never lose me._

He's stopped crying once he pulls back and looks at me, his shell reforming. "Sorry. Pussy moment."

I frown at him and pull his head to my breast, my fingers playing with his hair lazily. "Don't say that," I scold him. "I'm actually honored that you let yourself open up to me. Doesn't it feel kinda good now that you let it all out?"

He sighs before nodding his head. "Guess so."

"Same with me." He pulls away and leans back against the couch pillows. I smile at him and he smirks back at me. "Now you're no longer burdened by your beast."

He gets up and finds his cigar box, pulling one out and lighting it. "You tell anyone this, and there's going to be _severe_ punishment, darlin'."

I laugh and pull out our new wooden tea cups. "Let's have some tea. Tea makes everything better."

0o0o0o0o

**Please review and let me know what you thought about this chapter. You guys are great :) More soon!**

**Courtney xx**


	10. The Lion and the Lamb

**Author's Note: Okie-dokie, this chapter is rated M, you know the drill. The next chapter will definitely be back at the Mansion, MAYBE a little bit of the road trip back. Depends on how I'm feeling. (:**

**FYI: Marie's poem was actually written by moi :D I do some songwriting in my freetime!**

**Thank you: The all mighty and powerfulM, I'm a Nerd and Proud, Guest, EndlessDelenaObse****sse****dDesire, tanya2byour21, maji343, Killin-time, identityless, Roganette, AB Feta, Blab Labels, Bookworm22, windsweptrose, Lilabug, vifly, and abdc. Y'all are amazing people and Logan rewards you.**

**Song: Hero by Enrique Iglesias (I love this song for our favorite couple)**

_Would you swear that you'll always be mine?_

_Would you lie, would you run and hide?_

_Am I in too deep, have I lost my mind?_

_I don't care…you're here tonight._

**Chapter 10: The Lion and the Lamb**

He's stretched out on the couch with a smile creeping up on his face like molasses when he sees the guitar. "I heard you playin'." He tells me, placing his arm behind his head. "You're pretty damn good. Where'd you learn to play?"

I blush. I hadn't realized that he'd woken up from his nap and hand been listening to me play. I found the old guitar in the spare room (aka the paint fight room) and strummed out a few chords based off of memory. Then I sang.

"Er…I taught myself, sugah," I drawl, clutching the neck of the guitar tightly. "It was another hobby that I adopted while you were on the road."

The fire pops and crackles next to us. Logan looks me up and down like I'm a duckling and he's a wolf. I place the guitar beside the fireplace and clutch the piece of crumpled yellow paper in my hand. "Let me see that paper."

Before I can object, he snatches it out of my hands and opens it up. I quarrel with him for the paper, but he reads it anyways.

_I see you there standing in the trees_

_It's a humble hush, you've never felt so free_

_Your touch can heal but it can also bruise_

_But still you're the one that I don't want to lose_

_Now I can see your eyes staring into mine_

_But you're miles away, and I'm only safe inside_

_It's a crowded room and the walls are closing in_

_He punishes me with no committed sin_

_Now we've fallen to the base of the mountain_

_After we've climbed so high_

_You reach for me but you're too far away_

_I reach for you, I try and try and try_

_While I fall you drink yourself blue_

_And there's not a thing I can do_

_To change your mind in the least_

_But I'll tell you something that's true_

_You're no longer burdened by your beast_

He hands the paper back to me and I snatch it out of his hand. "You should really ask next time you want to see nything'!" I scold him. Logan doesn't say anything; he just stares into the fire, his hands fumbling behind my back.

"Is that a song?" he asks me, tugging on my lower back softly.

I crawl on top of him and rest my head in the crook of his neck. I face the fire and sigh. "No. It's a poem I wrote."

He grunts and runs his fingertips down my skin. "Should be a song. Who's it for?"

"I dunno." I whisper, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath he takes. "Maybe someday I'll put music to it…maybe I'll find someone who fits the title of the poem."

"It's a nice poem."

"Thank you."

There's a silence as we're both staring at the fire as it roars in the dim room. I can hear the winter winds whooshing around violently and the tinkling sound of the frozen tree branches clinking off of each other. He mumbles something, but I don't hear him right.

I push myself up a little to ask him what he said. He surges forward and kisses my lips, running his tongue over mine. I moan into the kiss and he grabs my backside in his firm hands. "What…what did… yah say?" I manage to say between the kisses.

He rolls his hips and thrusts up against my core and I break away to gasp and cry out. He grabs my face in his big hands and shoves his tongue inside of my mouth, puling me back to base one.

His hands twine into my hair and tug softly at the roots, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip. I can feel his hot, heavy breath on my neck as I nuzzle my nose against his. "I said…" he murmurs softly. "That yeh smell real fuckin' good."

I blush and laugh breathlessly, pushing up off of him so that I was straddling his lap. He stares at my stomach with his deep hazel eyes, pupils growing large. "Penny for yah thoughts, sugah?"

"Pennies ain't gon' pay the price, baby." Logan tells me with a slight smirk on his face. The bastard was relentless, and I loved him for it. I lean forward, my thighs unintentionally clenching against his, causing him to thrust up into me. I gasp and throw my head back against my better judgment and a moan elicits from my lips.

"Shit, that's hot." I hear him murmur before he thrusts up into me again, his movements slow and deliciously languid. I think I might love this man more.

He rolls his hips against mine, sitting up slightly to leave hot open mouthed kisses along the ridge of my neck. His erection is rubbing against my clit against my pants and underwear and I swear I'll blow apart.

"Stop it!" I cry out, rolling off of him and onto the floor. "I had noodles on the stove—they'll burn." Which was true, because before I came in to see him I'd put on some noodles for some homemade chicken soup.

He groans and his head falls back against the pillows as he groans in dissatisfaction. "Dammit. They're just noodles."

I push back my hair, still flustered at what he'd just done to me so quickly. "Yeah," I murmur breathlessly. "Noodles that cost four dollars at the stupid grocery store."

I walk off to the kitchen to the check the noodles. They're close to burning, but haven't gotten there quite yet. Twisting one of the doo-hickeys on the stove, I lower the water's temperature.

_**Come back.**_

_Lunch time, sugah!_

_**Fuck lunch, baby girl. Get yer ass back here and let us pleasure ya tha right way.**_

_Y'know, some men say that food is better than sex._

_**Food? Better than sex? What kinda crazy fucker said that?**_

_It's not crazy._

_**Maybe some guys feel like that, but yer sex is like sticking our dick in a little piece of heaven.**_

_Wow. What a use of words._

A pair of strong arms wraps around my waist and pulls me against a strong, hot body. Logan's lips suckle at my earlobe, his tongue lapping at the top of my neck. "Noodles good?" he asks.

"Mmm," I mumble. I'm incapable of words when his right hands slide below the waistband of my pants and dips into my panties.

_You don't have to do this._

_**I wanna.**_

_But Wolv—_

_**Marie. We **_**love**_** going down on you. We always will.**_

He toys with my womanhood, capturing my clit and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. He inserts one finger into my entrance and crooks it perfectly so that the tip of his middle finger rubs against my G-spot.

_**Come for us baby. Come all over our hands.**_

I blow apart at the seams, coming on his fingers. He groans as I lean back on him, breathless from the world-rocking orgasm.

_**That's a good girl.**_

I watch him as he lifts his fingers to his mouth and sucks lightly on them, licking up my juices like they were the sweetest, richest delicacy. He moans low in his chest, the vibrations doing all sorts of naughty things to me. I swear it's the hottest thing I've seen since Leo DiCaprio from Titanic.

_**Ya taste so damn good.**_

_You kill me, Wolverine._

_**Never.**_

So I stand up against the stove, panting and flushed, my hair messed up, my pants half pulled down, and the fucking noodles burning. I quickly turn off the stove before turning back to Logan, his lips moist and glistening with my womanly juices.

And like I said before, hottest fucking thing since Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. My knees feel weak and I drop to the ground, coming face to face with Logan's eight-inch monster dick. His eyes widen and he backs up slightly, not sure what's going to happen next. "Marie, baby…"

I reach out and snag his belt loop, roughly pulling him forward and undoing the buttons. Of course, a Wolverine never wears underwear. So considering the fact that he goes commando, I didn't have to pull down boxers. His length popped out before me, hot and ready.

He wasn't clean-shaven, but not a hairy beast either. He was perfect medium. I grasp his manhood in my hand, watching as he drew in a gasp when my fingers collided with the sensitive skin there.

I'd never done this for him, and I feel obliged to do so after he'd taken so many times out to stick his tongue in places that felt _really fucking good_. Guilt was getting the better of me when he said that he'd eat (and I quote) "my little pussy" anytime, anywhere, and no matter who was watching.

I tongue the base of his cock before licking up the underside of the appendage. He shudders when I reach the tender spot underneath the head of his cock before slipping my tongue into the slit. "Fuck!" he curses, gripping the table with his hands so hard that his knuckles turn white.

I gave him some long licks, my hands cupping his balls as I focus on giving the sexiest man alive some pleasure. When he thrusts against me to get some more action, I resort to engulfing his tip into my mouth and beginning to suck him off.

He plays with my hair as he tips his head back. I lower myself further down on his cock slowly, waiting until he's practically begging for it to engulf all eight inches and shove him down my throat.

"Motherfuck!" comes his loudest cry yet, when he's sheathed balls deep inside of my mouth. I keep him in my mouth for as long as I can without choking before taking him back in.

I pull away and rub him with my hand as his hips buck up against my movement. "I wanna taste you too. Can I?"

His hazel eyes have now turned black in utter and complete lust. "So good," he growls fiercely before shoving my head back down onto him. I open my mouth as he takes the tip of his dick and touches it to my tongue before ribbons of salty white cum shoot out onto my mouth.

I make sure not to miss a drop before I stand up and brush myself off. The intensity of his erection has gone down significantly but he's still aroused. His huge, muscled chest puffs out with each breath he takes.

"You—" He points his finger at me and growls. "Get yer ass over here _now._"

I start to walk over to him, but it's obvious I'm too slow for him when he tugs to me to his side and lifts me into his arms so that I'm straddling his waist. He's moving so quickly that I'm not sure where we're going until I see the bedroom door being shut right behind us.

_Oh, wow. He's good._

0o0o0o0o

The feeling of cold metal around my neck is what startles me while I'm standing and staring at Logan's work in the driveway, which is all shoveled nicely and I could actually see the black pavement underneath of it. I gasp and jump a little as he fastens the military-tags around my neck. They hang just a little past my breasts and sparkle in the sunlight.

"I want you to have 'em," he tells me softly. I around to face him. He's got his hat on and he's cleanly shaved, which is something rare as well. Maybe it was his way of thanking me for this _afternoon_.

"I can't," I whisper softly. "They're your tags. You can't just give 'em to me, sugah."

He shakes his head and turns his back on me to face the cabin. "I don't do gift returns." I come up beside him, my gloved hand clutching the tags around my neck.

"I…" I stutter over my words, blinking rapidly as I find something sweet to say. "Love you."

He smirks at me and smacks a kiss to my unsuspecting lips. "Firecracker called. Says she'll cut off my dick if you don't call her back."

"Can't have that."

"Damn straight, baby."

0o0o0o0o

"_Chica!"_

"Seriously Jubes? You're gonna cut of Logan's dick?"

"_It's my ultimate threat and it works every time. Anyways, we're seriously missing you back at the mansion. Scott's bored out of his mind and since Remy doesn't have his flirt here, he's been trying to dip his dick into me!"_

"Don't let him, Jubilee. Remy's a natural seducer." There's a silence on the phone. "You did sleep with him, didn't you?"

"_Perhaps. He drugged me and I thought he was some sort of dessert that was meant to be stolen and eaten well."_

"My God, you're so inappropriate!"

"_Riiiight. And it's like you haven't gotten into Logan's pants already. I bet you guys are making porn movies up there, or something."_

"I'm not into that whole porn thing, so…"

"_Yeah, uh-huh. Bobby and Kitty are. He left a little present for her on the bed, but the stupid asshole left it on my bed instead of hers because he forgot where he room was. Ice-Prick filmed himself sticking his ice-dick inside of Kitty's hoo-hah. So I kindly delivered it to her that evening without even calling her a slut this time!"_

"Okay one, filming sex is gross, especially for them. And two, how did you not call her a slut?"

"_Because I called her a whore this time. Can't do both."_

When I start to crack up, Logan looks at me and smiles widely. He's obviously listening to my conversation with Jubilee.

"True, you can't. That's just—"

"_Tacky? Hell to the yes, sugar-doll. Anyone who uses both slut and whore needs some lessons on how to be a bitch."_

"You always see something you're not supposed to," I whisper, laughing to myself.

"_FUCK, I know! Wait chica, wait. I have another story. Guess who I walked in on masturbating? Guess!"_

"Remy?"

"_No."_

"Hank?"

"_Gag. Guess again."_

"Bobby?"

"_Ugh, no. You suck at the guessing game. One more guess."_

"I don't know, Jubes. Kurt?"

"_Scott, you crazy bitch, Scott!"_ Jubilee screeches over the phone. _"And let me tell you something—even though he's one of the strictest teachers around, he really knows how to let go. It was amazingly hot, just watching him jerk off."_

"Oh my gosh…Scott's my really good friend and I really, really didn't need to know that at all." I hear Logan growl in the background at the mention of Scott's name.

"_Did I mention that he's got a nice ass?"_

"Ho-kay. That's enough."

"_I know something."_

"What?"

"_That you slept with Logan, you sexy little slut."_

My eyes pop and he chokes on his Molson's, obviously having had heard her through the phone.

"Where'd you hear that?" I ask.

"_I didn't need to hear it from anyone. Just hearing your voice and how you sound all blissfully sleepy is a dead-giveaway. It's true. I know it's true."_

"Yeah…"

I hear her gasp and screech like a crazed monkey on the other line. _"I had no idea that you slept with him! I just guessed it all!" _She claps her hands and I hear her feet stomping in the background, presumably doing her classic happy dance. _"UGH, you've been wanting to get into Wolvie's pants since forever, and now that you've done it…oh, I'm so happy."_

I smile. I'm happy too.

"_So when are you coming home? Scott's kinda getting pissed that you're not back yet. He could use an extra hand in the classrooms, and he misses having his sidekick with him."_

"Tomorrow morning, I think." Just the thought of leaving the cabin made me kind of upset. Of course I didn't want to leave. Would things be different when I left?

"_Good! I miss you, chica. So does Scotty-boy. Oh! And you can rub it in Bobby's face that you've got Logan now. Holy shit chica—you've got Logan. Never thought I'd be saying that."_

Me either.

0o0o0o0o

"Ya got to be kiddin' me. Ya never had a snowball fight with someone? Jesus, where's ya childhood, sugah?" I ask him, kicking at the powdery white snow with my boot.

He shrugs and trudges over to me. "I was born in the 1800's, kid. I'm old as fuck. Ya think we had snowball fights in the 1800's?"

I silence myself and lean against one of the frozen oak trees. "Well…" I stoop down to my knees and gather a handful of snow in my gloved hands, packing and patting it into a perfect little white ball. "It's real easy to make. And then ya just…"

I throw the snowball at Logan and it hits him square in the chest, the snow exploding all down his coat. He moves an inch, but growls at me fiercely. "The fuck was that?" His voice rumbles through me and leaves me feeling a little woozy.

"That's the point of the, um, snowball fight, sugah." I explain to him. I make another snowball and show it to him. "Throw it at each other. Now you try."

He looks at me funny before kneeling in the snow and packing together some snow into a ball. Then he stands and shows it to me. "I'm s'posed to throw snowy shit at a girl?"

I nod and moved my hands in a 'bring it on' motion. "Yeah, that's the goal! We throw back at each other an' stuff. Sounds fun, huh?" He doesn't respond, so I bend down to make another snowball.

It hits me so hard that I thought I got pelted with a rock at first. But I realized that it was Logan's snowball when powdery snow explodes down my right shoulder. Some gets on my scarf and kisses my skin, causing to me to cringe and shake it out.

I look up at him in shock and I see him standing and staring at what he did to me. "Did I do it…er, right?"

I exhale and smile. "You've got a strong arm, sugah. It's on." I whirl my snowball at him, but he moves away just in time so it doesn't hit him on the chest again. It gets his left arm and snow slithers up his coat sleeve.

He laughs and stoops down to make more snowballs. He throws one at me and it hits me in the leg as I try to run away. I throw another snowball as hard as I can but he ducks.

"Missed!" he snickers at me before making another one and throwing it in my direction. I screech when he tosses another one and it hits the tree I was hiding behind like a bullet.

"Missed," I mimic back at him and throw the ball of snow at the back of his head while he's turned around to make another snowball. He gasps and shakes his head like a wet dog, flinging the snow out of his hair.

"Gonna give ya a spankin' later," he tells me in his extremely low sex voice. And he whirls the snowball at me but I try to escape too late. If I thought the last snowball he threw was hard, it was nothing compared to the one that just hit me in the face.

The force of it sends me flying backwards into the snow, my gloves coming up to my snowy and painful face. "Shit. Darlin', are you alright?" He comes running over to my side, kneeling in the snow.

He wipes his own gloves on his pants before touching my face and cleaning the snow out of my neck. I keep my gloves pressed tightly over my nose and eyes because that's where I find it hurts the most.

"Lemme see." He pries my hands away from my face and sees the trickles of blood on my cheek and the side of my nose. He frowns and takes off one of his gloves, his surprisingly warm finger caressing my skin. "M'sorry, baby."

I start to laugh as his fingers wipe away the blood away. My right hand grabs a handful of snow and I smack him across the face with it. It catches him off guard and he tumbles into the snow. I take my chance and pounce on top of him, my bloody and freezing skin not a problem anymore.

He wipes the snow out of his eyes and starts to laugh as I kiss his cheeks playfully. "Ah, fuck. Ya little vixen."

I giggle and my gloved hands grasp the front of his coat, bringing his head up slightly as I pull upwards. "You should know _never_ tolet your eyes deceive you, Wolverine. I take my snowball fights very seriously."

He ducks his head and captures my lips with his, catching me off guard this time. "Okay…" he breathes. "You've definitely earned that spankin'."

I scramble roll of him and come to my feet. "Okay. Only if you can catch me first." I book down the backyard, seeing Logan stumbling to his feet with a little grin on his face.

This was like a scene from the Discovery channel playing in my mind. He was the predator and I was the prey. First he stalks.

Logan watches my every movement, his eyes becoming more black than hazel. I stop running and watch him.

Then he makes his move.

Logan darts after me, not giving me time to register…or to move. He wraps me in his bulging muscular arms and buries his face in the crook of my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin.

The predator going straight for the prey's throat.

I'm hysterically laughing—not because I'm sort of ticklish there—but because I don't think I've ever had so much fun in just a few short minutes of snowball fighting.

He pulls back with a huge smile on his face and runs his fingers down my cheek. "Let's clean up these scratches."

0o0o0o0o

I push away the bottle and scoot my chair farther away from him. "Rubbing alcohol hurts like a bitch. I don't want that on my face."

He pulls up a stool and sits beside me. "It's not rubbing alcohol, and if ya would have looked at the label, ya would have known that." He smiles at my aghast expression and I narrow my eyes at him. "It's painless. I always use it."

"Why?" I ask. "Yah mutation's got a healin' factor. So why would ya need stuff to clean ya cuts?"

He shrugs. "Sometimes I don't heal so fast." He pours some of the solution onto a cotton ball and presses it to one of the cuts on my face. I prepare myself for a burning sensation but it doesn't come. The liquid is just cold.

My fingers lightly grasp the hand that tends to my wounds and stroke the tough skin there. "Never thought of you as someone who'd nurse a girl's cuts."

He's concentration me never falters. His hazel eyes are locked on what he's doing. He dabs at the cut below my eye and puts a little band-aid there to stop the bleeding. "I'd do nything' for ya," he whispers it so softly that I barely hear it.

My heart soars. I stay still as his fingers push back a lock of my hair. I shifted in my place when his fingers ghost down the back of my neck to where his dog tags lay. He traces the chain down into my shirt, the feeling of his cold hand on my hot breast amazingly erotic on a completely different level.

"You mine?"

I nod. He pats me there and he growls appreciatively.

"Good."

He kisses my jaw so gently and delicately that it surprises me. His tongue darts out to wet my skin as his lips caress the area. I tilt my head back a little, baring my neck to him. I know that Logan's a feral, and it was the other part of him. I _did_ get some of his psyche, so I knew how he liked it.

Baring the neck was submissive.

He growls in approval and rubs up and down my neck with his free hand. His lips find mine and mold against them in ways I thought weren't even possible. It's like we were meant to kiss each other or something.

When he pulls away, it leaves me upset and wanting more. Like taking candy from a baby, in a different sense.

"We leave for the mansion tomorrow morning," he tells me. "Scooter's starting to get worried, I heard."

"Scott's just a friend," I confirm.

He grunts. "I would hope so."

I giggle and come up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Is somebody jealous?"

He opens a Molson's and takes a swig. "Maybe."

His answer kind of shocks me. I slither in front of him and jump into his arms. He wraps one bulging arm under my bottom to keep me from falling. I lay my head on his shoulder and kiss his neck. "Don't be. I'm stuck on you, sugah."

0o0o0o0o

**Please review! Your reviews are my motivation, and it's what keeps my muse going. I find that the more reviews I have, the faster I tend to write. And next up is the mansion (:**

**Courtney xx**


	11. Back On the Map

**Author's Note: Hello! Here's another chapter for you guys. Hope y'all haven't got as much snow as I have up here…20 inches for you! (:**

**Thank you: I'm a Nerd and Proud, Killin-time, EllezBellz, idenityless, AB Feta, windsweptrose, Roganette, abdc, Bookworm22, chante, Blab Labels, EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire, chante (again, thank you!) and tanya2byour21.**

**Song: Resurrection Fern by Iron and Wine (I obviously love Iron and Wine.)**

**Chapter 11: Back On the Map**

The cabin had changed me so much. So many things had happened—I'd had the time of my life in that little place. "I don't wanna go," I whimper, stuffing my gloved hands in my coat pocket.

Our breath comes in shallow puffs of white in the crisp, cold winter air. I'm bundled like a baby in my scarf, hat, gloves, furry boots and animal skin coat that Logan was generous enough to purchase for me.

He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me tight against his coat. "Me too, baby. But we sure as hell can't stay here forever, no matter how much we wish we could. We gotta go back sometime."

I nod my head, understanding. To be completely truthful, I'm terrified of what's going to happen when we go back to the school. Will things change? For yet again another time in my life comes around when I seriously don't know what the hell is going to become of me and my future.

He pops a claw on his right and goes to the front porch step. He's carving something on the step. "What are ya doin', sugah?" I ask curiously, coming up to his side. On the wood he carves the outline of a teacup and then he adds 'M + L' inside of the cup.

"Because tea makes everything better," he murmurs. "And you're my tea, baby."

Tears sparkle at my eyes without me even realizing it. Who would have thought that a damn cup would be more symbolic than a heart like the one you see guys carve into trees in those shitty romantic movies?

_**It's because a heart jus' means love. The teacup means that yer our everythin' an' ya make us feel better all the time.**_

That touched me in more ways than Logan had last night. And he'd done a lot. I wipe away a tear that escaped down my cheek and dab at my makeup to make sure that I'm not crying dirty black mascara tears.

I climb into the passenger seat to Logan's hunk-of-junk truck and slam the door behind me. He pulls his claw back in with a soft 'snikt' and stalks towards the vehicle. He hops in the driver's seat and turns the key that's already snug tight in the ignition.

The engine roars to life and he stuffs a cigar into his mouth as he backs out of the driveway. I can't hold it in anymore—I burst into tears.

He slams on the breaks and his cigar nearly falls out of my mouth. "What the fuck?" he exclaims. "The hell's the matter?"

Tears stream down my face like a rainstorm and I cover my face shamefully with the sleeve of my puffy coat. "Sorry. Just really hormonal." Logan sniffs the air and nods his head. I reel back in horror, thinking he can smell something I can't.

"I can tell. You gonna be okay? There's a gas station nearby…we could stop there and I could get ya some girly shit." He tells me.

My face goes bright red and I sniff up another tear as I punch his arm lightly. "Logan!" I scold. "I don't even have it yet."

"Yes you do."

My face drops. "What? Yah…yah can smell that?"

He grunts and give me a little cocky-ass grin. "I can smell everythin'."

I sit back in my seat as he pulls out of the driveway, feeling stupid and stunned. My gloved hands wipe at my blotchy eyes. "Yah embarrass me."

There's a snort, and a warm hands comes down on my leg. "I love it when a woman's fertile. Smells so damn good."

My face turns redder than I could have ever imagined and I find myself scooting away from Logan. He shoots me a seductive glance out of the corner of his eye.

0o0o0o0o

I point to the chocolate marshmallow ice cream and the guy behind the counter scoops out some of the ice cream into a plastic bowl. He hands me a spoon and the cup and I give him the money. I stare at the ice cream hungrily, licking my lips.

We're at the gas station—the kickass gas station that's got a hoagie and an ice cream stand. Logan stands in the line to pay for the items that he's bought. In his arms I see a cheap case of beer, a new pack of cigars and some tampons in a bright pink plastic bag. I can't help but blush as the cashier gives him a queer look.

"You gotta problem, bub?" Logan growls, throwing the money down on the counter. "They're for my girl."

_For my girl._

Whoa. I'm his girl? A wide smile spreads like wildfire across my face as I walk over to his side. _Well of course you're his girl, _I think to myself. _He did fuck you in a bathtub. _

Logan coughs uncomfortably when he sees me, not expecting me to show myself to the cashier. I cling to his side and take the tampons, slipping them inside of my coat secretly.

The cashier's face goes bright red as we walk away. "We showed him, didn't we?" I whisper in amusement. Logan doesn't look that amused, though. He solemnly nods his head and walks over to the hoagie stand and orders for two hoagies.

I don't pay the gesture any mind, though. I dip my spoon into the ice cream and shovel some into my mouth. Logan stands at the gloss counter, watching the woman behind the counter open some hoagie rolls. "Ham, provolone, lettuce an' tomato…pickles, mayo, vinegar, an' salt n' pepper."

While he orders his hoagie, I look back to see a tall man behind me staring at my behind. I hiss at him and he laughs, wiggling his fingers at me. I turn back to the hoagie counter when Logan nudges me in the side to order. "Umm…I'll have turkey with American cheese, lettuce, pickles, green peppers, and some salt."

The woman pops her gum and gives me an unamused look. "That all, dollface?" she says in her heavy Boston accent. But who the hell from Boston would be out in the middle of nowhere?

"Oh!" I exclaim. "Can I have some mayonnaise, oil, and vinegar please?" The woman squirts the condiments onto the hoagie sloppily before wrapping it in the paper and sticking it into a plastic bag.

As we turn to take our hoagies and my ice cream out, a hand comes down hard on my ass. I cry out in shock and it stops Logan in his tracks. He throws the hoagie bag at me and the last thing I see is Logan's fist connecting with the other man's jaw.

0o0o0o0o

"I cannot believe that you got us banned from the damn gas station." I say as we drive down the road. I hold my ice cream in my hand, my nails digging into the plastic cup. He smiles widely, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"The guy took a beatin', alright." Logan agrees. "Bite." I set down my ice cream and pick up his the last of his hoagie, feeding the rest to him. He sinks in and tears it apart with his teeth.

He mumbles a muffled 'thanks' to me as I pick up my ice cream back up. "You couldn't just say, _get your fuckin' hands offa her, bub_ like any sane person would. You had to give him an adamantium fist in the jaw."

Logan shrugs his shoulders. "He slapped yer ass, babe. Not okay in Wolverine's book." He turns a corner and the half melted ice cream in my hands sloshes in the cup. Truthfully, what I'd said had been a complete lie. I just wanted to hear him say it. "Sides, he got what he was waitin' for. Still got a sandwich. A knuckle sandwich."

I roll my eyes as he snickers at his little joke. "Wow, I sure haven't heard that one before."

_It's so sexy when he takes charge like this._

"Bite."

I look over at him with my eyebrows raised. "You ain't got none left, sugah," I say amusedly. He nods over at my ice cream. My eyes widen a little. "Oh hell no," I tell him. "I asked ya if ya wanted some and you turned me down, simple as that."

His free hand creeps over onto my thigh and squeezes. "I pay back good," he tells me in his sex-voice. Shivers wrack my body and I spoon out a little bit more.

"Fine," I whisper. "But that's it, got it?"

He nods and I feed him the scoop of ice cream. He moans and leans his head back against the car seat. "That ice cream's fuckin' good."

I shake my head and waggle my finger before his nose. "Ah-ah. _My_ ice cream's fuckin' good."

0o0o0o0o

"Kid, wake up."

The firm hand on my shoulder startles me into waking up. The melted ice cream in my hand sloshes in the cup. I hadn't realized that I'd fallen asleep during the ride back.

"We back?" I ask groggily, my eyes adjusting to the light around me. Logan nods and takes the ice cream cup from me, and tosses it into the trash bag he's kept in the back seat of the truck.

The snow blows white in the parking lot of the mansion, the wind picking up the sparkling, frosty particles and dusting them across the clean pavement. Logan kicks open the frozen door of his truck and walks around to the back of the truck.

I watch him unload both of our two suitcases onto the snow. I just take a moment to sit in my warm seat and gaze at him outside in the cold. His hair's messy and free (the way I like it), and he's wearing ass-hugging jeans with special outdoor boots. "C'mon" he mouths.

I push open the truck door and step into the snow. My boot makes a crunch when I push my full weight onto my right leg to swing my left leg out from under a bag. I slam the truck door behind me and walk around back to where Logan's holding the bags. He hands me my two suitcases and starts to roll his to the front door of the mansion.

"You smell nervous." Logan tells me.

The statement takes me aback slightly. "Oh…well," I honestly have no clue what to say. "Guess it's like the first day of school or somethin'. We've been away for like, two weeks, but it feels like a lot longer, y'know? 'Specially 'cause of the snow trappin' us in."

He nods his head slowly, his cigar sticking out of his mouth in an odd sort of way. "I know. Makes some sense." He opens his mouth and out curls wisps of grayish cigar smoke.

When we get to the front door of the mansion, Logan uses his special teacher key to unlock the doors and get in. The mansion smells like fresh scent cleaners and wood, just the way I'm used to it smelling.

It's one o' clock and that means most of the students are getting out of lunch to go to their next classes. So when we enter, the sea of mutant students are swimming the halls, making it hard to get past. I get a few "Hi Maries" and Logan gets a few "Hey Mr. Howletts."

That's because when Logan was a teacher, he didn't allow anyone but the staff and a few students (me, Jubes, Bobby, Kitty and John) to call him by his first name. Storm and Scott are standing by their classrooms as kids flood into them when they see us.

Scott gives Logan one of his 'hateful' stares as Storm lightly hugs me. "Welcome back, Rogue."

She never did get the memo that I was going by Marie nowadays.

Then she gets red in the face as she goes over to hug _my_ Logan. If I wasn't as civil as I am, I would have probably ripped her face off. That, and the fact that Scott distracted me before I could do so.

"No hug for your favorite teacher?" He asks me with a sweet smile. I set down my bags and wrap my arms around him, burying my nose into his leather jacket. He smells like mint and cologne. Heavy, heavy cologne. Hell, he smells like he bathed in his cologne for hours.

A hand comes down over my hair to stroke it gently. "Don't flatter yourself," I murmur. There's a chuckle before we both pull apart. He looks me up and down, and I do the same to him.

Same old same old Scott.

His hair's gelled and slicked back, a few chestnut wisps hanging down over his forehead. Scott's special goggles glisten like rubies, his bright blue eyes sparkling mischievously beneath them.

I look back at Logan, who's trying to fend off Storm while glaring menacingly at Scott. Scott, on the other hand, is gazing at me like I've got three heads. I playfully punch him in the arm and he shakes his head, like he's fending off some evil spirit-thoughts.

"Ho-kay," I hear Logan grumble, yanking his arm out of Storm's grasp and grabbing mine instead. "Talk later, unpack first. C'mon, kid."

Scott folds his arms over his chest in a bitchy sort of way. "She can talk to us if she wants to. You're not her father, Wolverine," the younger man snaps matter-of-factly.

_Hell he's not,_ I think. _I don't make love my father in a bathtub after a sexy paint fight._

Logan's face gets red as he spins on his heel and jabs his finger into Scott's chest, the force from the adamantium finger making Scott stumbled back a few steps. "You listen up, bub. I will fuckin'—"

I grasp his arm and tug him away from Scott. "C'mon, Logan. I'll come." Then I look at Scott, annoyed for him trying to start another fight with Logan, especially when we just got home. "I'll talk to you later." I tell him. He nods quickly, his gelled hair falling into his eyes slightly.

"Dinner," Scott murmurs, a shaking hand pushing his slick hair back out of his eyes. "See you then."

Logan grumbles as we lug our suitcases over to the elevator. Scott and Storm walk back to their classrooms as Logan punches the floor 6 button. "I hate when you talk to Scooter," he grouches at me.

I grip the handle of my suitcase as the elevator begins to move. "Okay, I'm going to be a bitch for a second. _I hated it when you talked to Jean._"

Logan's silent for a few seconds, staring at the floor numbers as they lit up. I sweep my hair over my shoulder, waiting for an answer. "Got me there, darlin'," he gives in. I smile triumphantly and nudge him in the side with my hip.

When the elevator door opens up to the 6th floor, we step out to part our separate ways until dinner. The hallway's empty so I take the opportunity to kiss him. He's surprised at first, but reacts suavely by grabbing me by the waist and grinding his hips into mine while our lips touch.

He breaks away first, grabbing his suitcases and rolling them away quickly. "Need a cold shower now," he calls to me down the hallway. "See ya later, baby."

I smirk to myself and roll my suitcases down the hallway. It's been so long that I almost forget where my room is. Well, the room that I share with Jubes. The corridor's dark despite the time of day, and I can't see the number on the door very well.

586 is what it reads. That's my room number. I remember it. So I push open the door and throw my bags down on the ground in exhaustion. What I see on my bed is what makes me scream loudly.

It's Remy and Jubilee, tangled up in my sheets. Naked. "What the fuck!" I screech, looking away as Remy scrambles to pull up the sheets around them.

"Chica!" A breathless Jubilee murmurs, sweaty tendrils of raven hair sticking to her skin. "I didn't know you were back so soon."

My face grows red and I growl at my best friend menacingly. "In my bed…seriously, you two?" The couple caught in action stay as still as statues. My hands ball into fists at my sides and I grit my teeth together. "Say something!"

Remy clears his throat and his eyes travel to my chest. "Ya wanna join us, chere? Dere's room for one mo'."

My reaction is the same as Jubilee's. She elbows him in the chest and he falls back onto the pillows with a cocky, arrogant smirk. "She's my best friend," the firecracker hisses at her card-man. "Not cool."

Remy's seductive smile creeps up on his face and his hands slither under the blankets to touch Jubilee in a way that makes her face contort in pleasure. "I could always make it up to ya, chere."

"Get out of my bed!" I screech, causing Remy to tumble of the other end of the full size bed. He slips on his jeans and exits the room quickly before I can slap him and put him into a week-long coma.

Jubilee wraps herself in the sheet and hops back onto her bed with a shy smile spread across her features. I disregard the bags on the floor momentarily to strip the sex sheets off of my mattress. Jubes stays quiet, curled up in my sheets in the corner of her bed.

I shoot her a glance as I throw the sheets at her. "Ya gon' be doin' the laundry, sugah." My tone of voice drips with poisonous honey. I climb onto my naked mattress, flinging myself onto it face first. "This sure is a nice welcome home."

Jubilee lets out a breathy laugh that she seemed to have been holding in for some time. . "Welcome home, chica. I missed you!"

I shoot her a sideways glance. "I thought ya said ya weren't gonna sleep with Remy." I even remember the conversation on the phone I'd had with her.

Jubilee nodded her head and I turn so that she can slip on a bra and panties. "Yeah. That was before he started getting all touchy-feely with me and complimenting me on my body and my, and I quote, _deliciously supple_ curves."

I cringe and shake my head. "That's sort of gross."

"Hey!" Jubilee screeches at me. "You were getting all kinds of freaky with Wolvie up at the cabin, so I don't think you should harp on me about being gross."

I scrunch my eyebrows up when I look at her. "Remy's my friend, and so are you. So it's kinda weird connectin' the puzzle pieces an' such…'specially with sex."

Jubilee lets out a huff and slips on her pink belly showing t-shirt with her yellow jacket and skinny jeans. "Wolvie and I co-teach some classes and I consider him a pretty good friend. And you're fucking his brains out, and I've been over here feeling a little neglected while you're like a coffeepot in an office."

I bend down and drag my suitcases over to my bed. "How many times didja do it in my bed?" I ask curiously.

Jubilee holds up her pointer finger. "Just that one time when you saw us. It was his room the other times—and once in the danger room!"

My eyes widen. "How the heck did ya manage to have sex in the danger room?" I ask her, genuinely interested in how she pulled that off.

Jubilee shrugs her shoulders earnestly and pops a piece of bubble gum into her mouth. "I don't know. But it was nice. Remy's…he's really smooth. Sweet talks me all the time. Guess I just succumbed to my wants and my lust. But anyways—tell me about your first time with Logan!"

The frail Asian girl pulls up a bench and leans her elbows on her knees excitedly. I sit on my bed and flashbacks of my first time with him flood back into my memory. "Well…it was a paint fight. He was annoyin' me while I was tryna paint a picture, y'know? He was flingin' paint on my shirt an' I was gettin' real angry so I dumped a whole bucket of blue paint onto him and called him Papa Smurf. Then he got me back, and I got him back, and we both got each other back until we used up all the paint."

My best friend's face is scrunched and red as she listens to my story. That's her listening face. When her lips pucker up and her brow scrunches, you know that she's real interested in what you're having to say.

"Then our clothes were all messy so we went to the laundry room and stripped. He turned his back while I changed an' then he threw mah clothes into the washer. Then he just strips himself bare—right in fronta me! And he was like, 'What, you ain't never seen a man's ass before?' He did have a nice backside."

Jubilee claps her hands. "More."

"So I'm in the bathtub washin' the paint off 'cause Logan destroyed the shower when I hear the door open. And he asks me if I meant it when I said that I didn't regret the kiss. I said that I meant it, an' he comes over and starts kissin' me. And I pull him into the water when he's not expectin' it!"

The firecracker flies out of her seat and tackles me to the bed. "Just like how a crocodile takes an antelope!"

Jubilee smells like Remy's cologne.

"That's not exactly what I was thinkin' of, but okay."

Jubes rolls off of me and fixes her short black hair until it's nice and pretty, then blows a big pink gum bubble before popping it with her lime green fingernail. "Y'know, we should get back to our classes. Scott initially gave me a five minute break and now it's turned into a half hour. I told Mystique to take over my job if I agreed to pay her $50."

We all had to teach classes. Even though I was still young enough to be going to school (college). Jubilee taught art classes. Logan taught phys. Ed, and ran the danger room with Remy as a co-teacher. Remy also taught a French speaking class to those who felt up to the challenge of speaking a different language.

Hank ran Health class and Biology, Storm took care of English and special writing classes, and Scott ran math courses and Bobby did some wood-shop classes. Emma Frost taught music class and worked one-on-one with other telepathic students that needed help controlling their powers. Kitty took on Physics because she's a big fat geek and I hate her so much—but that's not my point.

My job here?

Oh, it's nothing.

Just teaching home economics.

And teaching young mutant children how to cook.

"_Miss Marie, did I do this right?" Christopher asked me. I came over to inspect the ingredients he put in his milk shake. _

_Six strawberries, one banana, and half a peach. _

"_Perfect!" I told him, and rubbed the boy's back gently. "I'd say you're learning to cook really fast."_

"_So I can start the blender?" Christopher asked me, his bright blue eyes sparkling mischievously. I nodded my head._

"_Yes you may, but Christopher don't forget to put—"_

_Six strawberries, one banana, and half a peach in my hair, in my eyes, down my shirt._

"…_the lid on."_

I shiver at the memory. Christopher's a sweet kid, but boy is he forgetful. Besides home economics I sometime co-taught with Scott when he needed me to help with the kids and co-taught with Logan, helping him reign in the beast when he was working with children (he's got a low tolerance for kids). During the time he was gone, Remy had taken over the gym classes.

"You're right. Who took over Home Ec while I was gone?"

Jubilee raised her hand sweetly. "I did."

I set my suitcases on my bed and give my best friend a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, sugah."

0o0o0o0o

I'm dressed in a tight white tank top and black shorts for helping co-teach Logan's gym class. "Sorry I'm late!" I exclaim, rushing into the gym to see Logan holding some kid by the collar of his gym shirt and roaring in his face.

"You think you're funny, huh smartass? Your buddies might think it's funny to hit on a girl like that, but I sure as hell don't!" Logan roars.

I rush over to the crowd of frightened students. I lay a hand on my man's muscled bulge of a bicep and watch him instantly relax at my touch. "It's okay, sugah. Put him down. I'll take care of him and the girl."

Logan shakes the terrified boy one more time, giving him one last menacing growl before setting the kid back on his feet. The kid of about fourteen years old cowers behind me like a toddler and the girl with the bloody brush burn on her face tiptoes over.

I give Logan a reassuring smile as I take the kids away. "What's your names?" I ask both of the teenagers. The girl replies with "Anna" and the boy with, "Zack."

I smile at the girl. "My real name's Anna too. But I go by my middle name, which is Marie." I look through my bag for my first aid kit, letting out a shameless 'Ah-ha!' when I find it.

I pull out a sanitary wipe used for cleaning cuts and tell Anna to press it on her small wound. "So…either one of you gonna tell me what happened?"

Zack talked so fast that I had to stop him and ask him to say it again, this time a lot slower. "We were all playing dodgeball and Anna was on the opposite team. Mr. Howlett doesn't know that Anna and I are actually really good friends and I'd never do something to purposefully hurt her. I threw the dodgeball and it accidentally hit her in the face."

I nod my head as I take out a little band aid and place it on Anna's small dodgeball brush burn. "Okay. Well I'll tell Logan—er, Mr. Howlett that so ya won't get in trouble or nothin'. All this seems to be is just a silly old misunderstandin'."

I don't think I've seen anyone more relieved in my entire life. "Oh thank you, Miss Marie!" Zack cries. I nod my head and usher them back onto the gym floor.

Logan comes over to me after he'd calmed down a little. He folds his arms and nods over at me. "What's up with prick-boy and Anna?"

I shake my head and smile. "Misunderstandin'," I reply. "Ya should really learn to control that ferocious temper of yours. I don't think I've seen a seemingly tough boy like Zack shit his pants like that."

Logan snorts and wraps a sweaty bicep around my shoulder, bringing me close. I'm about to complain about the sweat but he lets go momentarily afterwards. "Sorry. The kids don't know about our relationship yet. Fact…I don't think anybody does."

"Jubilee," I murmur.

It takes him a moment to remember. "Oh, right. Shit. With her motor mouth, the whole damn school will know by midnight."

I don't mention the fact that Jubilee swore that she wouldn't tell anyone until Logan and I were ready to come out everybody that we were in a romantic relationship with each other.

"Well…would that be so bad?" I poke at him.

Logan pushes it off like it's nothing. "No, 'course not. It's just that we got home. Maybe in a few days."

I nod my head. Understanding. Even though it seems a little stupid to me, I agree anyways. "Well…let's get goin' then."

**0o0o0o0o**

**Thanks for reading. More soon! Any suggestions on songs I should do for chapters, or any suggestions in general? Shared ideas are always the best ones (: **


	12. Brewing Storms of Fire and Hate

**Author's Note: I don't know. Just read on (:**

**Thank you: I'm a Nerd and Proud, The all mighty and powerfulM, Killin-time, Guest 1, identityless, Roganette, Blab Labels, Bookworm22, Guest2, EllezBellz, and Guest 3. **_**I really want to thank you all for staying with me and reviewing. You are all amazing people, and I send you my love!**_

**Song: Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars.**

**Chapter 12: Brewing Storms of Fire and Hate**

I had laid in my bed in the room that I'd shared with Jubilee that night. Logan and I hadn't seen each other since dinner last night, and he sort of avoided talking to me around Scott. Jubilee had confessed to me that Scott hadn't exactly lied to Logan when he said that he needed help back at the mansion—he needed my help to make him smile throughout the day.

Remy still flirts with me, but I don't notice it as much as I used to. I had the one I wanted now, and there was no one who could peel me away from him now. Jubilee disapproves that Remy still flirts with a dozen women in the school, but she's learned to accept that Remy's always flirted and she couldn't change him.

But hell, she'd told me, he's a fine partner in bed.

I zip up my fitting black suit and sweep my hair up into a messy bun. I had a danger room session with Logan, Storm, Pete, Scott, Kitty, Remy, Jubes, Bobby, and Kurt. This danger room session wasn't like the normal danger room sessions where Logan would teach.

It was a demonstration.

Of what you were supposed to do in the danger room.

Some teachers weren't participating, though—they chose to stay and tend the kids in. Emma Frost, Hank, Warren, and Mystique. The danger room had been remodeled well over the last few years, and an auditorium had been put around the danger room so people could look upon the danger room when the X-Men did their demonstrations.

There was a wall that was closable when demonstrations over so danger room training sessions could be private for the newcomers and the inexperienced.

Logan stands close to me, fighting the urge to grab me. I fight the urge to pounce on him and fuck him in the midst of danger like Jubilee and Remy had. Unlike us, Jubes and Remy had gone public with their relationship, and they were holding hands beside me. Scott stood next to Storm who (of course) stood next to Logan, which only made me kind of jealous.

Bobby and Kitty stood together, holding hands like fucking victors, gazing up at the crowd of students like they were royalty. Pete stood close to Kitty (everyone knew he had a thing for the whore, and that he wanted Bobby out of the picture completely) and Kurt snuggled up to Storm's side.

"_Alright,"_ Betsy Braddock's sugar sweet English accent floated over the loudspeakers of the danger room. _"Let's see what Hank has in store for you all today. Be ready—prepare yourselves. This session will not be an easy task for you all. This is a demonstration to show the students of Xavier's Academy what could be capable of. Rank: Code Red. This danger room session is called: Fire Storm."_

I huddle closer to Logan's side, who in turn, draws me to his side. "I'll cover ya, darlin'," he tells me confidently. The protective force field is drawn up like a bubble over the danger room arena, and clusters of 'oohs' and 'ahs' can be heard from all around.

Truthfully, I hadn't done a danger room session in a really long time. Especially a code red danger room session. There were four ranks in a danger room session: green (the least), yellow, blue, and red. Code reds were by far the hardest.

Everyone gasps as the lights go out all at once. I even find myself shaking as I grasp Logan's hand in nervousness. I had to make myself look good, though.

"_Danger room session Fire Storm begins now."_

Dim red lights go on, allowing us to see our surroundings. We're in a remote area, buildings in ruin around us. "Split up!" Scott calls to all of us. Everyone runs different directions and I'm left not knowing where to go.

Logan tugs me back behind a building with him. My heart's pounding. Even though this is fake, we've all wheeled injured students out of here before. When the first fireball hits our area, the ground literally shakes with the force of it, sending bricks tumbling down over our heads. Logan and I both dive out of the way before they can hit us.

He lands on top of me, taking hit after hit as he shields me with his adamantium spine. When the bricks cease to fall for a minute, he tugs me up and we run off into the distance.

Before we know it, fireballs are raining down on us. They send fire running everywhere, causing buildings to go up in flame. A line of fire spreads before me like gasoline had been put there, trapping me in a corner. A fireball is heading my way.

I sort of freak out because Logan's busy saving Storm from a building by going bitch-ass crazy on some bricks. No one sees me. My powers are useless against this. What I've absorbed from other mutants will have no effect on this monstrous thing. When I think I'll be done for (eliminated), a bright beam of red light flashes before my eyes and destroys the fireball. Pieces of burning rock and sparks come down like rain.

I close my eyes, feel arms around me, and find myself out of the corner when I open them again. I look into the eyes of a smiling blue creature. "Thanks Kurt," I murmur. He nods and teleports somewhere else. Scott's running towards me, dodging falling bricks and blasting some more fireballs while he was at it.

"Are you okay?" he asks me, checking me for wounds. I nod my head breathlessly. When I think it can't get worse, laser beams start to blast shit as well. I know those laser beams too well. I'd done combat with the laser-bot countless times, and the only way to stop it was to get close to it and destroy it.

"It's the bot," I tell Scott over the crashing sounds. I skillfully dodge a laser beam, sliding over some rubble. Scott uses his glasses to smash another fireball.

"How do you know?" Scott calls.

"Trust me!" I call to him.

He runs off into the distance, and once again I'm alone. I search for Logan through the dust and darkness, but I see nothing. Kitty's stuck to Bobby's side like glue, and Jubes is using her fireworks to blow up some fireballs.

I see Scott telling Storm that it's the robot that's shooting the lasers, and how we could easily get rid of it. I found myself following Pete as he dodged his way through the lasers that were blowing things up into the air.

We hid behind a patch of rubble as debris flew through the air. A huge rock was going to crush us into little pieces until Pete used his mutation to turn us both into metal. The rock hit him in the back of the head, making him release his hold on me. A piece of metal soars past me and the person who stands before me gets the gift of having his skin ripped from his face.

But he shakes it off easily with an agitated look on his face. I have to take a moment to catch my breath because of the force of the blow. Not to mention the striking fact that being turned to metal isn't the best feeling.

Logan stands there with a glint in his eye. "The whole world's goin' to hell, an' your jus' gonna sit there?" He walks over and helps me up. "Let's go."

We race off towards the source of the laser beams. I can barely see where I'm headed thanks to the explosions going up around us. There's a fireball headed towards Bobby, but he uses his ice powers to freeze it and shrink it down to a pebble. He turns towards Kitty with pride. "Bobby!" she cries, grabbing a hold of them as a laser beam shoots straight through them both.

"Marie," Logan growls, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the scene. The ground vibrates with each step the giant robot takes. Storm flings herself against a pile of debris, practically forcing herself onto Logan.

"We're getting killed out here," the weather goddess tells him. Logan nods his head.

"Yeah, I know. But we have to make an example for the kids."

The bright eyes of the robot shine in the distance. "Logan!" Storm and I both cry at the same time. He, however, doesn't seem to be fazed at all.

He lays a hand on my upper thigh. "Don't get your panties in a bunch."

Getting my panties in 'a bunch' was the last thing I'm worried about.

Storm uses her flying powers to push Logan out of the way of the oncoming laser, but she leaves me behind. The laser beam blows up the pile of wreckage that I was hiding behind, sending a jagged piece of metal into my arm.

Even though this was a simulation, I still felt blood trickling down my arm. Logan's pissed that Storm saved him and not me. I can hear him arguing with her in the side. "It was a quick thought," she murmurs to him in her defense.

Logan disregards her and runs towards me, helping me up. The piece of metal was getting rejected by my body thanks to the healing factor that I contracted from touching him. But the traces of the healing factor were found to be so little that I still had a gaping wound there.

_**Let me end him.**_

I can hear the Wolverine in the back of my mind, roaring with anger. Logan's soft hazel eyes quickly turn black as he turns towards the robot. "Logan!" Storm pleads. "We have to work as a team!"

Scott runs towards me, looking awful worried about my arm. "I'm fine," I tell him when he asks me.

"We are working as a team." Logan replies. Then he nudges Pete in the side. "Hey, tin-man. How good's your throwin' arm?"

Pete covers himself in metal and uses his force to throw Logan towards the robot. 10 seconds later, the giant robot's head lands on the ground before us.

"Well, shit."

0o0o0o0o

I'm out of the medical wing a half hour later with bandages wrapped around my arm. Hank said that my healing factor and the antibiotics that he'd given to me would speed up the healing process. I hadn't seen Logan since he'd rushed me into the medical wing with Scott.

While the students are in classes, I roam the halls looking for him. Hank said that he'd probably be on his break since Remy took over danger room sessions today. In the hallway by his room, I hear two voices talking low.

"You're the reason that Marie's up in the damned medical wing right now," he hissed, pushing Storm against the door.

The weather goddess shoved Logan back with enough force to make his adamantium bones move an inch. "And you're the reason that the mission was unsuccessful!"

I press my back into the wall, eavesdropping into their conversation. "The mission was unsuccessful? That's some straight up bullshit, right there. I killed the bot. Be happy no one else got hurt like she did."

Storm growled. "Logan, why are you treating me like this? I said I was sorry about what happened to Rogue."

"_Marie_!" Logan hisses at her. "Her fuckin' name is _Marie._"

Storm backs up a little and lets him have his space. "Marie. Right. I'm sorry." She runs a hand through her long white hair. "What we had before you were gone…I want that back."

My eyes widen. What the hell is she talking about? I mean, I'd heard rumors that Storm and Logan might have gotten together, but I certainly didn't believe them. I dare peek around the corner one more time.

"Ro…that's…that's not going to happen." Logan tells her, the anger in his voice lowering a few octaves.

She whimpers and rubs Logan's broad shoulders sensually. He pulls away and shakes his head. "What's going on with you, huh? What did I do to push you away?"

Logan just shakes his head again, stepping farther away from Storm. "I can't do this, Storm. Don't."

She frowns and her bright blue eyes get watery with tears. She wipes them away quickly. "There's someone else, isn't there?"

He nods his head. "Yeah."

With that, she turns on her heel and storms down the hallway, wiping weakly at her teary eyes. And down the other end of the hallway I go. The rumors were true. And it bit me real hard to know that he had something going with her too.

I walk the other way as Logan retreats into his room.

0o0o0o0o

I lay down my book as I hear a knock at the door. I go to the door and open it up, my heart soaring at the fact that it's Logan to sweep me away into his bedroom. But to my dismay, Scott's leaning against the doorframe instead of my handsome wolverine-prince.

"Oh." My shoulders droop slightly, my eyes losing a tad bit of their brightness. "Hello there."

Scott chuckles slightly and flips his hair out of his eyes. "Hello too you, Marie. I see you're happy to see me." He pushes past me and enters my bedroom in one swift moment. I gape slightly as he kicks the door shut behind himself.

"S-sorry," I mumble, pushing my hair out of my face. "I guess I'm just…uh…tired." He lounges on my bed like we're some sort of couple and he's used to doing that. Like he's ready for a freakin' sleepover, or something.

He scans the room through his ruby glasses. "Where's Jubilee?" he asks me. My eyebrows raise slightly.

Why does he care where she's at? "Probably fucking Remy somewhere," I reply, sitting down in a small green chair near Jubes' bed.

Scott shuts up immediately after that, brushing back his slick, gelled chestnut hair with a rough hand. "Alright then. Anyways…how your, er, arm?"

I've almost forgotten about the gash in my arm. The white bandage had a nice red blotch on it where my cut was, but I wasn't in that much pain. "Oh. It's fine, I guess."

His arm darts out and grabs the edge of my shirt, dragging me over to the bedside. I get a good whiff of his cologne. It smells like man, but too strong. And most definitely not as good as Logan smells.

"Lemme see," he whispers, starting to unwrap my bandage. I hiss at him and pull my arm away. He looks slightly hurt, and the puppy-dog look in his eyes makes me feel like a complete bitch.

My shoulders droop and I sigh. "Alright, alright, fine. You can see my battle wounds." He grins and his fingertips ghost over my skin, pulling the bandage off slowly.

When the bandage is off, I can almost feel Scott's eyes burning through my skin. "Are you kidding me? There's hardly anything there."

I finally have the courage to look down at my wound. There was a long cut, but depth-wise, it was no big deal at all. I'm kind of offended at his tone of voice (God knows why) even though it's a good thing that I'm healing quickly. "It's my mutation."

He looks up at me in a puzzled manner and I see his eyes gleam through the glasses. "I know you don't have a healing mutation, Marie." The amused gleam in his eye quickly vanishes as he begins to realize. "You…you touched Logan?"

I nod sheepishly. Scott chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head. "Calm down," I groan. "It was nothing inappropriate." Lie. "It was accidental, in fact." Another lie.

He raises an eyebrow and pinches his lips together in a straight line.

I nod my head towards the bandage laying on my bed and jiggle my arm in his grasp. "Ya could wrap me up now…" I murmur.

"Oh."

"I have some new gauze in the first drawer." I murmur. But he goes for the wrong drawer, and opens my panty drawer instead. "No! I said first drawer! First one!"

"Jesus. Sorry."

This time he opens the right drawer and gets out the gauze. I won't look him in the eye, I'm so embarrassed. "Ya really suck at listenin' and followin' directions," I growl.

"It's not like I haven't seen a pair of panties before," Scott murmurs.

I try to stay still while he's wrapping me up. "Yeah," I huff. "But you ain't seen mine, an' I was plannin' on keepin' it like that."

Scott laughs, even though I wasn't trying to make a joke. "Seems fair enough." Once he's got my bandages and gauze back on, I collapse on Jubilee's bed to try and keep my distance from him.

"Did Storm and Logan have a thing?" I blurt.

He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows. "I thought they still did. Why?"

Yeah, why? Just me, remembering everything that happened at the cabin. That's why. I shake my head at Scott. "Never mind. It's nothing."

**0o0o0o0o**

**Okay people, throw your sticks. I know there's no smut, and there's not really a lot of interaction. But you've got to trust me, I'm building up to something! Things will be moving along faster. Any guesses as to what's gonna come up next?**

**Courtney xx**


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